So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.
Every fair from fair sometime declines
...lest too light winning make the prize light.
The world must be peopled!
If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
Sir Andrew Ague-Cheek: I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether (He's an oddity in that he enjoys having fun)