If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.

Grace and remembrance be to you both.

The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.

Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.

More of your conversation would infect my brain.

I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.