So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation

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).

The Violence Of Either Grief Or Joy, Their Own Enactures With Themselves Destroy.

I'll Be Supposed Upon A Book, His Face Is The Worst Thing About Him.

O Jest Unseen, Inscrutable, Invisible, As A Nose On A Man's Face, Or A Weathercock On A Steeple.

Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.