Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make

Time Hath Not Yet So Dried This Blood Of Mine, Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention, Nor Fortune Made Such Havoc Of My Means, Nor My Bad Life Reft Me So Much Of Friends, But They Shall Find Awaked In Such A Kind Both Strength Of Limb And Policy Of Mind, Ability In Means, And Choice Of Friends, To Quit Me Of Them Throughly.

Base Men Being In Love Have Then A Nobility In Their Natures More Than Is Native To Them.

Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

Let Us Kill All Lawyers

Our Remedies Oft In Ourselves Do Lie, Which We Ascribe To Heaven.