There's beggary in love that can be reckoned

When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence; so sweet is zealous contemplation.

We have seen better days.

Nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.

By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will he that dies this year is quit for the next

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.

Gold--what can it not do, and undo?