Merciful heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured His glassy essence--like an angry ape Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens, would all themselves laugh mortal.

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.

To gild refined gold, to paint the lily... is wasteful and ridiculous excess

Lawn as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses.

What e'er thou art, act well thy part.

And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do