Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make females mad
* * * * *
I pray you, do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine
* * * * *
Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties
* * * * *
Love hath made thee a tame snake
Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away
* * * * *
I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster
* * * * *
Mistress, you know yourself, down on your knees, And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love
* * * * *
In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow
* * * * *
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love
* * * * *
Men’s vows are women’s traitors
* * * * *
To be wise and love, Exceeds man’s might
* * * * *
They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them
* * * * *
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love
* * * * *
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee, and when I love thee not, chaos is come again
* * * * *
Lovers ever run before the clock
* * * * *
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
* * * * *
I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ‘I love you'
* * * * *
I’ll make my heaven in a lady’s lap
* * * * *
You have witchcraft in your lips
* * * * *
I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you
* * * * *
Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o’Sunday
* * * * *
I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me
* * * * *
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
* * * * *
They do not love that do not show their love"
* * * * *
O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day
* * * * *
Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
* * * * *
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
* * * * *
When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that.
* * * * *
I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.
* * * * *
O! she's warm.
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.
* * * * *
Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon
* * * * *
I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say 'I love you'
* * * * *
I love you more than words can wield the matter, Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty
* * * * *
A heart to love, and in that heart, courage, to make love known
* * * * *
A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.
* * * * *
Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, The pretty follies that themselves commit
* * * * *
Lovers ever run before the clock
* * * * *
Speak low if you speak love
* * * * *
Love goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps
* * * * *
See where she comes apparelled like the spring.
* * * * *
Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties
* * * * *
My heart is ever at your service
* * * * *
Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery: nothing else holds fashion.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
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