Hot blood begets hot thoughts, And hot thoughts beget Hot deeds, And hot deeds is love.

Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream

Every fair from fair sometime declines

Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.

I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.