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

“Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.”

“Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurour and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!”

“And pity, like a new-born babe,Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsedUpon the sightless couriers of the air,Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,That tears shall drown the wind.”

“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause”

“Love comforeth like sunshine after rain,But Lust's effect is tempest after sun.Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain;Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done.Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.”

“Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, that shakes not, though they blow perpetually.”