“I long to hear the story of your life, which must captivate the ear strangely.”

“I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear”

“But here must end the story of my life,And happy were I in my timely deathCould all my travels warrant me they live.”

“This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong:To love that well which thou must leave ere long.”

“What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drumAnd the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,Clamber not you up to the casements then,Nor thrust your head into the public streetTo gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces,But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter”

“For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history; Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.”

“Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love. That inward beauty and invisible;Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move each part in me that were but sensible: Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, yet should I be in love by touching thee.'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me, and that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, and nothing but the very smell were left me, yet would my love to thee be still as much; for from the stillitory of thy face excelling comes breath perfum'd that breedeth love by smelling.”