Let me confess that we two must be twain, although our undivided loves are one.

the fire seven times tried this; seven times tried that judgement is that did never choose amiss some there be that shadows kiss; such have but a shadows bliss, there be fool alive, i wis silverd o'er, and so was this Take what wife you will to bed I will ever be your head. So be gone; you are sped.

Opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects.

... I am At war 'twixt will and will not.

But it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in the most humorous sadness.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.