There is left us ourselves to end ourselves.

Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.

The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.

Though it be honest, it is never good to bring bad news: give to a gracious message an host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell themselves when they be felt.

Music, moody food of us that trade in love.

Be it art or hap, he hath spoken true.

By this marriage, all little jealousies, which now seem great , and all great fears, which now import their dangers would then be nothing.

My salad days, when I was green in judgement, cold in blood.

There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

When valour preys on reason, it eats the sword it fights with.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.

I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' eternal.

Oft expectations fails, and most oft there<br /> Where most it promises; and oft it hits<br /> Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

There is no fettering of authority.

He must needs go that the devil drives.

Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?

The hind that would be mated by the lion must die for love.

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven.

Be check'd for silence, but never tax'd for speech.