Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
The very instant I saw you, did My heart fly to your service; there resides To make me slave to it. ...mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want.
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
You must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.