Oh, thou did'st then ne'er love so heartily. If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run inot, Thou has not loved. Of if thou has't not sat as I do now, Wearying they hearer in thy mistress's praise, Thou has not loved. Of if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou has not loved. (Silvius)

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Our jovial star reigned at his birth.

Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight

If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

The band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity.

I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.