She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, Manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man
And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical.
But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
Rashly, And praised be rashness for it--let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well When our deep plots do pall, and that should learn us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will
What man dare, I dare. Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The armed rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble.
so full of shapes is fancy
We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.