These times of woe afford no time to woo.

Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.

Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution

Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.

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

Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.

Before, I loved thee as a brother, John, But now, I do respect thee as my soul.