The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.
Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
T'is true: there's magic in the web of it.
He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.