Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!

O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!

Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!

A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.