“what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes”

“When remedies are past, the griefs are endedBy seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.To mourn a mischief that is past and goneIs the next way to draw new mischief on.What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,Patience her injury a mockery makes.The robb'd that smiles steals something for the thief;He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.”

“What cannot be preserved when fortune takesPatience her injury a mock'ry makes.The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.”

“How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Iago”

“O that I were a mockery king of snowStanding before the sun of BolingbrokeTo melt myself away in water drops!”

“Never; he will not:Age cannot wither her, nor custom staleHer infinite variety: other women cloyThe appetites they feed: but she makes hungryWhere most she satisfies;”

“We do it wrong, being so majestical,To offer it the show of violence,For it is as the air, invulnerable,And our vain blows malicious mockery.”