Wishers Were Ever Fools.

I Will Be Free, Even To The Uttermost, As I Please, In Words.

Finish, Good Lady; The Bright Day Is Done, And We Are For The Dark.

Why, I' Faith, Methinks She's Too Low For A High Praise, Too Brown For A Fair Praise And Too Little For A Great Praise: Only This Commendation I Can Afford Her, That Were She Other Than She Is, She Were Unhandsome; And Being No Other But As She Is, I Do Not Like Her. (benedick, From Much Ado About Nothing)

If Men Could Be Contented To Be What They Are, There Were No Fear In Marriage.

Make Use Of Time, Let Not Advantage Slip; Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted: Fair Flowers That Are Not Gather'd In Their Prime Rot And Consume Themselves In Little Time.