Unsubstantial Death is amorous.
One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
We see which way the stream of time doth run.
Most dangerous is that temptation that doth goad us on to sin in loving virtue.
Blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!