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.

Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.

O,speak to me no more;these words like daggers enter my ears.(a fancy way of saying SHUT UP!)" — William Shakespeare "hamlet

Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.

I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.