But I am constant as the Northern Star, Of whose true fixed and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament.
He was not so much brain as earwax
What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.
You kiss by th' book.
My love's more richer than my tongue.