He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

thou art the best o' the cut-throats

Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.

Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.

Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.