In a false quarrel there is no true valor.

Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

And she's fair I love.

Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offense by weight The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will, On whom it will not, so: yet still 'tis just.

Slander, whose whisper over the world's diameter, as level as the cannon to its blank, transports its poisoned shot.

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.

But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.