As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.

And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

My love's more richer than my tongue.

Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*

Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.