Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.
In thy foul throat thou liest.
I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
There was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.