Silence is the perfect herald of joy.

O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.

They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.

I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe

Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?