When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded, to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate— That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death which cannot choose But weep to have, that which it fears to lose.
When your friend lies to you it's not his fault but actually is your's, because you didn't give him proper space to tell the truth.
What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
Whatever praises itself but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Whats mine is yours and what is yours is mine.
What, you egg? Young fry of treachery!
When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.
When in that moment,—so it came to pass,— Titania wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.