The eye sees all, but the mind shows us what we want to see.

Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?

I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am by seeming otherwise.

I can see he's not in your good books,' said the messenger. 'No, and if he were I would burn my library.

The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.

But whate'er I am, nor I nor any man that but man is, With nothing shall be pleased 'til he be eased With being nothing.

Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.