Though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.
Unsubstantial Death is amorous.