Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows
Which shows like grief itself but is not so.
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects -
Like perspectives which, rightly gazed upon,
Show nothing but confusion; eyed awry,
Distinguish form. So your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Find shapes of grief more than himself to wail,
Which, looked on as it is, is naught but shadows,
Of what it is not.

Richard II, Act II Scene II - Shakespeare.