The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.

Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.

For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.

Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?

You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.

There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.