Tis a cruelty to load a fallen man.

Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.

Your worm is your only emperor for diet; we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.

The devil knew what he did when he made men politic; he crossed himself by it.

The Eyes are the window to your soul