Forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum.

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.

I am all the daughters of my father's house,And all the brothers too.

You don't look at it as the size of the role. Quantity is not the point. You can be as thorough in 30 seconds as you can in three hours.

Some true love turned and not a false turned true.

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,Chaos is come again.