I do love nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?
A man should be what he seems.
Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
This fell sergeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.