O Heaven! Were Man, But Constant, He

Though Inclination Be As Sharp As Will, My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent, And, Like A Man To Double Business Bound, I Stand In Pause Where I Shall First Begin, And Both Neglect.

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

Murder Most Foul, As In The Best It It; But This Most Foul, Strange, And Unnatural.

They Have Been At A Great Feast Of Languages, And Stolen The Scraps.

Your Face, My Thane, Is As A Book Where Men May Read Strange Matters. To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time; Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue: Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under't.