Beware of the fury of the patient man

In pious times 'ere priest craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin: When man, on many, multiply'd his kind Ere one to one was, cursedly, confined; When Nature prompted, and no law deny'd Promiscuous use of concubine and bride

He [Shakespeare] was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul . . . He was naturally learned; he needed not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards, and found her there.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.

When rattling bones together fly, / From the four corners of the sky.