Live how we can, yet die we must.
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
If I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 'Tis rigor and not law.
one pain is cured by another. catch some new infection in your eye and the poison of the old one would die.
Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.