“Scratching could not make it worse. . . such a face as yours.”

“I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; Godhas given you one face, and you make yourselvesanother: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, andnick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonnessyour ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hathmade me mad.”

“Make our faces vizards to our hearts, disguising what they are.”

“You are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face”

“Still better, and worse.”

“Make not your thoughts your prisons.”

“O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd, That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!”