Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.
Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltiness of time.
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
All offences come from the heart.
Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed King.