I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
In struggling with misfortunes lies the true proof of virtue.
Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
Oh, flatter me; for love delights in praises.
O, Thou hast damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.