I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound'.

In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.

We have seen better days.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? And shall I couple Hell?

They say best men are molded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed