Never; he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.

Though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve.

Exit, pursued by a bear.

All offences come from the heart.

We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.

Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain.

By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love