To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much. — William Shakespeare
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then ’tis time to do’t. Hell is murky! — William Shakespeare
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; for grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop. — William Shakespeare
The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die — William Shakespeare