What the great ones do, the less will prattle of

Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.

The fear's as bad as falling.

So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.

And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.

I see a man's life is a tedious one.