Juliet is the east and i am the sun.

These times of woe afford no time to woo.

Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.

That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.

And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.