The nature of bad news affects the teller.

Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?

Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, him not know t, and he's not robbed at all.

Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!

To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.

love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit