* * * * *
What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!
* * * * *
Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?
Love is begun by time, And time qualifies the spark and fire of it
* * * * *
Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did:
O, how I long to have some chat with her!
* * * * *
Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday
I would not wish any companion in the world but you
* * * * *
Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service
* * * * *
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love
* * * * *
What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
* * * * *
Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, The pretty follies that themselves commit
* * * * *
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better
* * * * *
You have witchcraft in your lips
* * * * *
Love for thy love , and hand for hand I give.
* * * * *
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is woman, and therefore to be won
* * * * *
I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap
* * * * *
Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof
* * * * *
Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
* * * * *
This bud of love by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
* * * * *
These words are razors to my wounded heart.
* * * * *
I am giddy, expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense.
* * * * *
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.
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