Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
Through tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
His nature is too noble for the world.
Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial.
And make death proud to take us.
Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed. It's.