Justice always whirls in equal measure.

I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people.

I understand a fury in your words But not your words.

Oh God! that one might read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea.

He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, is stabbing.

O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.

Take pains. Be perfect.