His words are like the sound of a needle dragging across a record. A sinking, sickening feeling washes over me. This is why you should never, ever get your hopes up. This is why you should see the glass as half empty. So, when the whole things spills, you aren't as devastated.
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour!
When love begins to sicken and decay, it useth an enforced ceremony.
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.
If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.