What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.

To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.

What can be happier than for a man, conscious of virtuous acts, and content with liberty, to despise all human affairs?

I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.

What e'er thou art, act well thy part.