There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.

And nothing is, but what is not.

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold

The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75

I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.

Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.

Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.