I love a ballad but even too well if it be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably.

I have not slept one wink.

If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!

I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.

Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.

Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.