Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.
Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.
Truth needs no color; beauty, no pencil.
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.