Lovers Can Do Their Amorous Rites By

Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety.

Beware The Ides Of March.

They Do Not Love That Do Not Show Their Love. The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth. Love Is A Familiar. Love Is A Devil. There Is No Evil Angel But Love.

Be Wary Then; Best Safety Lies In Fear.

Love Is A Smoke Raised With The Fume Of Sighs; Being Purged, A Fire Sparkling In Lovers' Eyes; Being Vexed, A Sea Nourished With Loving Tears. What Is It Else? A Madness Most Discreet, A Choking Gall, And A Preserving Sweet. *here’s What Love Is: A Smoke Made Out Of Lovers' Sighs. When The Smoke Clears, Love Is A Fire Burning In Your Lover’s Eyes. If You Frustrate Love, You Get An Ocean Made Out Of Lovers' Tears. What Else Is Love? It’s A Wise Form Of Madness. It’s A Sweet Lozenge That You Choke On.*