There's daggers in men's smiles.
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven
For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
Tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.
The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.