Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated

The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.

For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

I doubt not then but innocence shall makeFalse accusation blush, and tyrannyTremble at patience.

My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.

Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!

He that filches from me my good name robs me of that which enriches him and makes me poor indeed.

In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.

Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.

But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.

When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.

Men that hazard all Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.

The villany you teach me I shall execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.

Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.

Poise the cause in justice's equal scales, Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.

Fortune is painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind.

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, From earth to heaven.

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just.

Liberty plucks justice by the nose; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.

I'll read enough When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.

Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.

So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by.

If't be summer news, Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st But keep that count'nance still.

One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

Give them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like devils.

So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.

All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.

The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground

So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.

I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath; Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both.

Conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.

O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.

Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.

Let me say amen betimes lest the devil cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.

Though men can cover crimes with bold, stern looks, poor women's faces are their own faults' books.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth.

What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.

I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.

True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.

I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.

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