Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win.

Thou art a Castilian King urinal!

He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

[Thine] face is not worth sunburning.

Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!