How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.

Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, men were deceivers ever

And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.

In a false quarrel there is no true valor.

I'll teach you differences.