It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.
Speak me fair in death.
I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
Love hath made thee a tame snake