Talking isn't doing. It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.

The jury passing on the prisoner's life may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try.

Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life.

What is aught but as 'tis valued?

Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us gold; methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch.

We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion.