What, man, defy the devil. Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
Time does not have the same appeal for every one
Ambition's debt is paid.
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
Music can minister to minds diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with its sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse the full bosom of all perilous stuff that weighs upon the heart.
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
The miserable have no other medicine But only hope.
Well, honor is the subject of my story.
You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.
My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
What must be shall be.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
I am wrapped in dismal thinking.
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
What my tongue dares not that my heart shall say
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long
Speak low, if you speak love.
And he goes through life, his mouth open, and his mind closed.
A good leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curl'd pate will grow bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon, — for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly.
Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
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