“I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.”

“To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.”

“O momentary grace of mortal men,Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!Who builds his hopes in air of your good looks,Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,Ready, with every nod, to tumble downInto the fatal bowels of the deep.”

“Your face, my thane, is as a book where menMay read strange matters. To beguile the time,Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,But be the serpent under't.”

“The very instant I saw you, didMy heart fly to your service; there residesTo make me slave to it....mine unworthiness, that dare not offerWhat I desire to give, and much less takeWhat I shall die to want.”

“As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put besides his part,Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart; So I, for fear of trust, forget to say The perfect ceremony of love's rite, And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,O'ercharg'd with burden of mine own love's might. O, let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking breast;Who plead for love, and look for recompense,More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.”

“One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,That all with one consent praise new-born gauds,Though they are made and moulded of things past,And give to dust that is a little giltMore laud than gilt o'er-dusted.The present eye praises the present object.”