The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.

The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones

Striving to be better, oft we mar what's well.

And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not

Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.

O, pardon me, my lord! it oft falls out,To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean.I something do excuse the thing I hate.