I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.
Talkers are no good doers.
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
I love thee, I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.
I wonder that you will still be talking. Nobody marks you.
Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.