Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.
When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.
Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
I do love nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?
Neither a borrower nor a lender be.