We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated

If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, By self-example mayst thou be denied.

Oh, flatter me; for love delights in praises.

For a noble heart, the most precious gift becomes poor, when the giver stops loving.

Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.

I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap