“What showers arise, blown with the windy tempest of my heart”

“For raging wind blows up incessant showers”

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

“Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.”

“If after every tempest come such calms,May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!”

“Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick menWhen for so slight and frivolous a causeSuch factious emulations shall arise!”

“But I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at: I am not what I am.”