For They Are Yet Ear-kissing

I Am Indeed Not Her Fool, But Her Corrupter Of Words. (act Iii, Sc. I, 37-38)

None Can Cure Their Harms By Wailing Them.

Are You Sure/that We Are Awake? It Seems To Me/that Yet We Sleep, We Dream

Mercy Is Not Itself, That Oft Looks So; Pardon Is Still The Nurse Of Second Woe.

O Constancy, Be Strong Upon My Side, Set A Huge Mountain 'tween My Heart And Tongue! I Have A Man's Mind, But A Woman's Might.