Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.

Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.

Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.

To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful

So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.

I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say - I love you