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Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.-Luc. I., 2.
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.-VAL.
He that is so yoked by a fool, methinks should not be chronicled for wise.-Vał. I., 1.
He wants wit, that wants resolved will to learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.-PRO. II., 6.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, and manage it against despairing thoughts.-PRO. III., 1.
I have no other but a woman's reason; I think him so, because I think him so.-Luc. I., 2.
Love is like a child, that longs for every thing that he can come by.—DUKE, III., 1.
Maids, in modesty, say No, to that which they would have the profferer construe, Ay.-JUL. I., 2.
My love is thaw'd; which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was.-Pro, II., 4.
My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good news, so much of bad already hath possess'd them.-VAL. III., 1.
Make a virtue of necessity.-2 OUT. IV., 1.
O, how this spring of love resembleth
.-PRO. I., 3.
Spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, the more it grows, and fawneth on her still.-PRO. IV., 2.
They love least, that let men know their love.— Luc. 1.,
The current, that with gentle murmur glides, thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; but, when his fair course is not hindered, he makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, giving a gentle kiss to every sedge he overtaketh in his pilgrimage; and so by many winding nooks he strays, with willing sport, to the wild ocean.-JUL. II., 7.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.-VAL. III., 1.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.-PRO. III., 1.
To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue.— LAUN. III., 1.
The private wound is deepest.-Val. V., 4.
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?— DUKE, III., 1.
Romeo and Juliet.
An hour before the worshipp'd sun peer'd forth the golden window of the east, a troubled mind drave me to walk abroad.-ВÊN. Act I., Scene 1.
there lies more peril in thine eye, than twenty of their swords.-Rom. II., 2.
Ah, what an unkind hour is guilty of this lamentable chance!-FRI. V., 3.
But he, his own affections' counsellor, is to himself -I will not say, how true-but to himself so secret and so close, so far from sounding and discovery, as is the bud bit with an envious worm.-MoN. I., 1.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; your tributary drops belong to woe, which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.-JUL. III., 2.
Banishment, is death mis-term'd; calling deathbanishment, thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe, and smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.-Roм. III., 3.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, we would as willingly give cure, as know.-MoN. I., 1.
Compare her face with some that I shall shew, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow.-BEN. I., 2.
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, and where care lodges, sleep will never lie: but where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.-FRI. II., 3.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance, not of ornament.-JUL. II., 6.
Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.-MER. III., 1.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest with more of thine.ROM. I., 1.
Go, counsellor; thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.-JUL. III., 5.
He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.-Rom. I., 1.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.-Rom.
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.-Rom. II., 2.
I, measuring his affections by my own,-that most are busied when they are most alone,-pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, and gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.-BEN. I., 1.
I'll now his grievance, or be much denied.-BEN. I., 1.
I'll look to like, if looking liking move.-JUL. I., 3.
Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn.-Roм. I., 4.
I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as the air; and more inconstant than the wind, who wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south.-MER. I., 4.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: night's candles are