“They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.”

“Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.”

“Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud;A brittle that's broken presently;A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.And as goods lost are seld or never found,As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,As flowers dead lie withered on the ground,As broken glass no cement can redress;So beauty blemished once, for ever lost,In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost.”

“When your friend lies to you it's not his fault but actually is your's, because you didn't give him proper space to tell the truth.”

“The let-alone lies not in your good will.”

“Why, what's the matter,That you have such a February face,So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?”

“You lie.”