I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire.

That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

In time we hate that which we often fear.

Wish chastely, and love dearly.

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.