The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.

And what’s he then that says I play the villain?

Remembrance of things past.

O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.

Nature does require her time of preservation, which perforce, I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal, must give my attendance to.

The fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.

Men from children nothing differ.