Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too.
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.
My soul is in the sky.