Men's Eyes Were Made To Look, And

As Honour, Love, Obedience, Troops Of Friends, / I Must Not Look To Have; But, In Their Stead, / Curses, Not Loud But Deep, Mouth-honour, Breath, / Which The Poor Heart Would Fain Deny, And Dare Not" (5.3.25-28).

She Told Her, While She Kept It, 'twould Make Her Amiable And Subdue My Father Entirely To Her Love, But If She Lost It Or Made A Gift Of It, My Father's Eye Should Hold Her Loathed And His Spirits Should Hunt After New Fancies.

Verily, I Swear, It Is Better To Be Lowly Born, And Range With Humble Livers In Content, Than To Be Perked Up In A Glistering Grief, And Wear A Golden Sorrow.

Were It My Cue To Fight, I Should Have Known It Without A Prompter.

Misery Makes Sport To Mock Itself.