Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.

Oh, flatter me; for love delights in praises.

When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

O horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!

All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may.

What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.

Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.