So may the outward shows be least themselves: The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? In religion, What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them." Viola: "Thy reason, man?" Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.

Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; and study help for that which thou lamentest.