My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.

An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.

Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

Small to greater matters must give way.

Memory, the warder of the brain.

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.