“Kissing with golden face the meadows green,Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy”

“We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.”

“The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.”

“turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the night and forget about the garish sun.”

“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,Who is already sick and pale with grief,That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.Be not her maid since she is envious.Her vestal livery is but sick and green,And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.Oh, that she knew she were!She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks.Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,Having some business, do entreat her eyesTo twinkle in their spheres till they return.What if her eyes were there, they in her head?The brightness of her cheek would shame those starsAs daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heavenWould through the airy region stream so brightThat birds would sing and think it were not night.See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.Oh, that I were a glove upon that handThat I might touch that cheek!”

“When he shall die,Take him and cut him out in little stars,And he will make the face of heaven so fineThat all the world will be in love with nightAnd pay no worship to the garish sun.”

“O ill-starred wench! Pale as your smock!”