Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.

so full of shapes is fancy

O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.

Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.

Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December.