So fair and foul a day i had not seen.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.

The chameleon Love can feed on the air

His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; his love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; his tears pure messengers sent from his heart; his heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth

Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.