Then happy I that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.
Oh, flatter me; for love delights in praises.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
It is silliness to live when to live is torment.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.