Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.

All's well if all ends well.

Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.

Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see

There is nothing so confining as the prisons of our own perceptions.

When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will