. . . I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears do scald like molten lead.
Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.
The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, Advantaging their loan with interest Of ten times double gain of happiness.
Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.
Nature's tears are reason's merriment.
How many a holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, as interest of the dead!
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
Why, I can smile and murder whiles I smile, And cry 'content' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face for all occasions
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.
O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
If the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift.
And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise; But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be, Yet hold I off.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.