My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world.

By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.

Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.

Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent.

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain