The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.

Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.

Let me confess that we two must be twain, although our undivided loves are one.

There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.

Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.

Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.