Think'st Thou It Honourable For

Tis In My Memory Lock'd, And You Yourself Shall Keep The Key Of It.

I Stalk About Her Door, Like A Strange Soul Upon The Stygian Banks Staying For Waftage.

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire; Doubt That The Sun Doth Move; Doubt Truth To Be A Liar; But Never Doubt I Love.

Anger Is Like A Full Hot Horse, Who Being Allowed His Way, Self-mettle Tires Him.

Base Men Being In Love Have Then A Nobility In Their Natures More Than Is Native To Them.