Men in rage strike those that wish them best.

He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.

Use every man according to his desert and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity, the less they deserve ... the more merit in your bounty.

My love is as a fever, longing still.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat; Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.

To sleep perchance to dream

A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother.