Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
Lord, lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!
Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
Let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings: how some have been deposed; some slain in war, some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed, some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed, all murdered.
Let life be short; else shame will be too long.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
If money go before, all ways do lie open.
If Love be blind, it best agrees with night.
I must have liberty withal, as large a charter as the wind, to blow on whom I please.
I like not fair terms and a villain’s mind.
