Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties
Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Faith, there hath been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.
I can see he's not in your good books,' said the messenger. 'No, and if he were I would burn my library.