Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds.
Thou art the Mars of malcontents.
While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie.
Come not within the measure of my wrath.
So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
He that dies pays all debts.
We have some salt of our youth in us.