You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.

Being daily swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded.

It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.

Affection is a coal that must be cooled; else, suffered, it will set the heart on fire.

I cannot speak your england.

Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.

But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.