I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.

I am sure care's an enemy to life.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

I rather would entreat thy company; To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.