“Get thee to a nunnery.”

“Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.”

“What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.”

“I am not bound to please thee with my answer.”

“Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!”

“Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.”

“I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.”

“Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.”