Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

Make not your thoughts your prisons.

Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.

Make use of time, let not advantage slip.

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.