I dote on his very absence.

If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.

My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told.

Love is a spirit all compact of fire.