If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
The insolence of office.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.
And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?