Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Who can be patient in extremes?

O the world is but a word; were it all yours to give it in a breath, how quickly were it gone!

How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.