Say as you think and speak it from your souls.

Is it thy will, thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames and idle hours in me, The scope and tenor of thy jealousy? O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: It is my love that keeps mine eye awake: Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake: For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.

Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

I am a man more sinned against than sinning

Through tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind