One sin another doth provoke.

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.

Be like you thought our love would last too long, if it were chain'd together

Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.

This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!