Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.

Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

I fill up a place, which may be better... when I have made it empty.

I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

They do not love that do not show their love.

Love will not be spurred to what it loathes