“let not thy sword skip one:Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;It is her habit only that is honest,Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheekMake soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,Are not within the leaf of pity writ,But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;Think it a bastard, whom the oracleHath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.”

“Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,Have put on black and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,Nor that full star that ushers in the even,Doth half that glory to the sober west,As those two mourning eyes become thy face:O! let it then as well beseem thy heartTo mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack”

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

“Who, LORD, shall abide in Thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in Thy holy hill? He that beareth his own witness in every Thing, he that singeth his own Song in Thy praise, he that giveth not his own Words to his Neighbours mouth, nor taketh his neighbours Words as his own.”

“Such as thy words are such will thine affections be esteemed and such as thine affections will be thy deeds and such as thy deeds will be thy life ...”

“But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,Making a famine where abundance lies,Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.”