“every thing in your hand if you bi laveon God”

“What is your substance, whereof are you made,That millions of strange shadows on you tend?Since everyone hath every one, one shade,And you, but one, can every shadow lend.Describe Adonis, and the counterfeitIs poorly imitated after you.On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,And you in Grecian tires are painted new.Speak of the spring and foison of the year;The one doth shadow of your beauty show,The other as your bounty doth appear,And you in every blessèd shape we know.In all external grace you have some part,But you like none, none you, for constant heart.”

“What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” “My hands are of your colour; but I shame to wear a heart so white. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy it is then! Your constancy hath left you unattended.”

“I hope they will not come upon us now.King Henry: We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.”

“To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.”

“O momentary grace of mortal men,Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!Who builds his hopes in air of your good looks,Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,Ready, with every nod, to tumble downInto the fatal bowels of the deep.”

“If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening ...”