Twas a clever quibble. Here, a garment for it.

Knit your hearts with an unslipping knot.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.

Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!

Love is a spirit all compact of fire.

New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.