Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate

Summer's lease hath all too short a date.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.

If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps; and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.

How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!