You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.

Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met!

More fools know Jack Fool than Jack Fool knows.

Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.

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.

Is she not passing fair?

For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.