Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth

I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.

Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!

Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.

O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!

And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.

Bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest.