Sweetest nut hath sourest rind.

Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday

Time does not have the same appeal for every one

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.

I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.

O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless; lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!