Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*

Alas, how love can trifle with itself!

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?

Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil

They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.