Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe.

One man in his time plays many parts.

By that sin fell the angels.

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.

Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, [380] And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.

Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!

She is drowned already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.

Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.