“Now I wantSpirits to enforce, art to enchant;And my ending is despair,Unless I be relieved by prayer”

“Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear”

“But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,And, constant stars, in them I read such art,As truth and beauty shall together thriveIf from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;Or else of thee I prognosticate,Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.”

“I read that I profess, the Art of Love.Bianca: And may you prove, sir, master of your art!Lucentio: While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!”

“I have not art to reckon my groans, but that I love thee best, oh, most best, believe it.”

“What matters it what went before or after,Now with myself I will begin and end.”

“Why I, in this weak piping time of piece,Have no delight to pass away the time,Unless to see my shadow in the sunAnd descant on my own deformity”