So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.

It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.

O hell! to choose love with another's eye.

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.

There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.