A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.
You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave.
No stony bulwark can resist the love, and love dares what anyone can love.
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
Say, thou art mine; and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere
It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.