Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck.

Why, I can smile and murder whiles I smile, And cry 'content' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face for all occasions

Better conquest never canst thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against giddy, loose suggestions.

In thy face I see the map of honour, truth and loyalty.

a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.

They whose guilt within their bosom lies, imagine every eye beholds their blame.

The world must be peopled!