The valiant never taste of death but once.
How well he’s read, to reason against reading!
I will praise any man that will praise me.
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
I may neither choose who I would, nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.
The attempt and not the deed confounds us.
And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
Love’s gentle spring doth always fresh remain
Nothing can come of nothing.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
For I can raise no money by vile means.
Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.
Steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks.
The wheel is come full circle.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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