Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.

Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath any honesty in him.

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!

I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.

Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.