“Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life.”

“Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.”

“A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox wouldbeguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox wouldeat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion wouldsuspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused bythe ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness wouldtorment thee, and still thou livedst but as abreakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thygreediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldsthazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou theunicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee andmake thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wertthou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse:wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by theleopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german tothe lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors onthy life: all thy safety were remotion and thydefence absence. What beast couldst thou be, thatwere not subject to a beast? and what a beast artthou already, that seest not thy loss intransformation!”

“Anything that's mended is but patched. Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but patched with virtue”

“How many actions most ridiculous/Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?CORIN: Into a thousand that I have forgotten.SILVIUS: O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily!/If thou remember'st not the slightest folly/That ever love did make thee run into,/Thou hast not loved:/Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,/Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,/Thou hast not loved...”

“And these few precepts in thy memoryLook thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,Nor any unproportioned thought his act.Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,But do not dull thy palm with entertainmentOf each new-hatched, unfledged comrade.”

“Is it thy will, thy image should keep openMy heavy eyelids to the weary night?Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from theeSo far from home into my deeds to pry,To find out shames and idle hours in me,The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,To play the watchman ever for thy sake:For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,From me far off, with others all too near.”