But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this that you call love to bea sect or scion.... It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will.

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed

He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.

Liberty plucks justice by the nose; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.

In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.

Oh what fools we mortals are.

You are a tedious fool.