Emotions and Feelings

Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!

By heaven methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honor from the pale-fac’d moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honor by the locks.

O! the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He call’d them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corpse Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

You tread upon my patience.

So shaken as we are, so wan with care.

See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.

One writ with me in sour misfortune’s book.

Tempt not a desperate man.

The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?

Past hope, past cure, past help!

Past hope, past cure, past help!

Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.

O! I am Fortune’s fool.

Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.

And yet no further than a wanton’s bird, Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.

To lure this tassel-gentle back again.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? 12 Deny thy father, and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

See! how she leans her cheek upon her hand: O! that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek.

Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.