Doubt is a thief that often makes us fear to tread where we might have won.

Till all grace be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.

Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear t that th' opposed may beware of thee.

Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.

O, but they say, the tongues of dying men enforce attention, like deep harmony: where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain: for they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. he, that no more must say, is listened more than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze; more are men's ends marked, than their lives before: the setting sun, and music at the close, as the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; writ in rememberance more than things long past

Men in rage strike those that wish them best.

No, no, I am but shadow of myself: You are deceived, my substance is not here.