Impose me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my sin; yet sinned I not But in mistaking.
If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue of your office, to be no true man.
O that estates, degrees, and offices Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
If ever (as that ever may be near) You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, Then shall you know the wounds invisible That love's keen arrows make.
I took him for the plainest harmless creature That breathed upon the earth a Christian; Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded The history of all her secret thoughts.
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss: Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come; so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might.
Murder's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh.
I am the very pink of courtesy.
Fie, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes—to chide, to laugh, To weep.
In the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.