Society and the World

A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine.

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

How like a fawning publican he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian.

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place.

Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

The very life-blood of our enterprise.

But in the way of bargain, mark you me, I’ll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

’Tis like the forc’d gait of a shuffling nag.

Constant you are, But yet a woman: and for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

Apothecary: My poverty, but not my will, consents. Romeo: I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Apothecary: My poverty, but not my will, consents. Romeo: I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet.

Upon his brow shame is asham’d to sit.

Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy.

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; And vice sometime’s by action dignified.

Saint-seducing gold.

Though she be but little, she is fierce.

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Night and silence! who is here? Weeds of Athens he doth wear.

I’ll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes.

Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire.

Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels.

He is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war.