“a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief”

“A young woman in love always looks like Patience on a monument Smiling at Grief.”

“She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm 'i th' bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pinned in thought; and, with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more; but indeed our shows are more than will; for we still prove much in our vows but little in our love.”

“When remedies are past, the griefs are endedBy seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.To mourn a mischief that is past and goneIs the next way to draw new mischief on.What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,Patience her injury a mockery makes.The robb'd that smiles steals something for the thief;He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.”

“Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.”

“The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.”

“Some grief shows much of love,But much of grief shows still some want of wit.”