I was adored once too.

In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.

Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

I have no way and therefore want no eyes I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.

A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.

So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.

That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.