I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me. - William Shakespeare

Too much of water hast thou poor Ophelia, and therefore I forbid my tears.
But yet it is our trick, let shame say what it will. when these are gone the women will be out!
Adieu my lord, I have a speech of fire that fane would blaze,
But that this folly doubts it.

"Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts! Unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top full
Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor Heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry "Hold, hold!

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet Grace must still look so.