Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .

For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.

Assure thee, if I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it to the last article." --Othello, Act III, Scene iii

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

Be still prepared for death: and death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.

Thou weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath.

Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it.