Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.

Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate, And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst; But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate, For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate, Take this of me, Kate of my consolation; Hearing thy mildness praised in every town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded, Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs, Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.

Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.

So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.

Friendship's full of dregs.

Your praises will become your wages.