Ornament is but the guiled shore to a most dangerous sea.
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
The fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.
I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered.
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger.