We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.

All surfeit is the father of much fast.

Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, more than quick words, do move a woman's mind.

The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.

If music be the food of love, play on.

Past all shame, so past all truth.