Yet this my comfort: when your words are done,
My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

“Who was it that thus cried? why? worthy thane, you do unbend your noble strengt…”

“Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,And vice sometime by action dignifie…”

“Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his qui…”

“I'll not meddle with it. It makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal but it acc…”