Where is your ancient courage? You were used to say extremities was the trier of spirits; That common chances common men could bear; That when the sea was calm all boats alike showed mastership in floating.
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead: excessive grief the enemy to the living.
Good counselors lack no clients.
Though those who are betrayed do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe.
Some guard these traitors to the block of death, Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
Our doubts are traitors And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt.
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
God shall be my hope, My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
Rumor doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.
Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.
Remembrance of things past.
Love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit.
Tomorrow is Saint Valentines day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine.