Thou hast the most unsavoury similes.

Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltiness of time.

The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long

My love admits no qualifying dross

What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.

I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire.