I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Mine ear is enamoured by thy note; So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape; and thy fair virtues force perforce doth move me; to say, to swear, I love thee

Then the world's mine oyster.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eye, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

One half of me is yours, the other half is yours,
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours.

[T]his thing of darkness IAcknowledge mine.