There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.

His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.

Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.

I cannot speak your england.

If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out

Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner to be lost and warn, Than women's are.