'By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible true, that thou art beauteous truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal.

As chaste as unsunned snow.

What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.

We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.

Although the last, not least.

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.

My soul is in the sky.