From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.

But like of each thing that in season grows.

All is well ended if this suit be won. That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day.

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?

And makes me poor indeed.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.