But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them." Viola: "Thy reason, man?" Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.

As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.

What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!

where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

All's well if all ends well.

Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.