Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth; the Countercheck Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. . . . Your If is the only peace-maker; much virtue in If.

They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.

When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover.

Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.

Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought.