I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.

Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.

Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?

The icy precepts of respect.

Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?