Love is a wonderful, terrible thing
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
It easeth some, though none it ever cured, to think their dolour others have endured.
Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.