My only love sprung from my only hate.

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.

'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown.

Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.

For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas

O, reason not the need!