Slander lives upon succession, For ever housed where it gets possession.
My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee; therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.
There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
He was not so much brain as earwax
This fell sergeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest.