Ask me no reason why I love you; for though Love use Reason for his physician, he admits him not for his counsellor.

Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.

And makes me poor indeed.

Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.

His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.

This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.