He that but fears the thing he would not know Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes That what he feared is chanced.
Do not presume too much upon my love, I may do that I shall be sorry for.
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind; None can be called deformed but the unkind.
A city on whom plenty held full hand, For riches strewed herself even in her streets; Whose towers bore heads so high they kissed the clouds, And strangers ne'er beheld but wondered at.
Now I will look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three-farthings.
Show me, my women, like a queen; go fetch My best attires. I am again for Cydnus To meet Mark Antony.
Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears Moist it again, and frame some feeling line That may discover such integrity.
The blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wav'ring multitude.
Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence.