Love is familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 135 The instruments of darkness tell us truths, 136 Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's 137 In deepest consequence.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud,if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be, for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Poor soul, the center of my sinful Earth.
These sudden joys have sudden endings. They burn up in victory like fire and gunpowder.