An overflow of good converts to bad.
I may command where I adore.
The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.
O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
I dote on his very absence.
Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.