At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

As in a theatre, the eyes of men, after a well-graced actor leaves the stage, are idly bent on him that enters next.

One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.

That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy; But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.