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Conceit, More Rich In Matter Than In Words, Brags Of His Substance, Not Of Ornament: They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth; But My True Love Is Grown To Such Excess, I Cannot Sum Up Half My Sum Of Wealth.

-William Shakespeare

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Conceit, More Rich In

William Shakespeare

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Conceit, More Rich In Matter Than In Words, Brags Of His Substance, Not Of Ornament: They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth; But My True Love Is Grown To Such Excess, I Cannot Sum Up Half My Sum Of Wealth.

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Thou Slave, Thou Wretch, Thou Coward! Thou Little Valiant, Great In Villainy! Thou Ever Strong Upon The Stronger Side! Thou Fortune's Champion, That Dost Never Fight But Where Her Humorous Ladyship Is By To Teach Thee Safety.

Thou Hast Her, France; Let Her Be Thine, For We Have No Such Daughter, Nor Shall Ever See That Face Of Hers Again. Therefore Be Gone Without Our Grace, Our Love, Our Benison.

Trust Not Your Daughter's Minds By What You See Them Act.

Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh A Style.

It Is My Lady! *sighs* O, It Is My Love! O, That She Knew She Were! She Speaks, Yet She Sais Nothing. What Of That? Her Eye Discourses; I Will Answer It. I Am Too Bold, 'tis Not To Me She Speaks; Two Of The Fairest Stars In All The Heaven, Having Some Business, Do Entreat Her Eyes To Twinkle In Their Spheres Till They Return.

Well, I Must Be Patient; There Is No Fettering Of Authority.

A Contract Of Eternal Bond Of Love, Confirm'd By Mutual Joinder Of Your Hands, Arrested By The Holy Close Of Lips, Strength'ned By The Interchangement Of Your Rings, And All The Ceremony Of This Compact Seal'd In My Function, By My Testimony.

Glendower: I Can Call The Spirits From The Vasty Deep. Hotspur: Why, So Can I, Or So Can Any Man; But Will They Come, When You Do Call For Them?

O, Had I But Followed The Arts!

Perseverance, My Dear Lord. Keeps Honour Bright.

The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly May Easily Untie.

Teach Not Thy Lip Such Scorn, For It Was Made For Kissing, Lady, Not For Such Contempt.

If I May Trust The Flattering Truth Of Sleep, My Dreams Presage Some Joyful News At Hand. My Bosom's Lord Sits Lightly In His Throne, And All This Day An Unaccustomed Spirit Lifts Me Above The Ground With Cheerful Thoughts.

When Rich Villains Have Need Of Poor Ones, Poor Ones May Make What Price They Will

Do You Take Me For A Sponge, My Lord? Hamlet: Ay, Sir; That Soaks Up The King's Countenance, His Rewards, His Authorities. But Such Officers Do The King Best Service In The End: He Keeps Them, Like An Ape, In The Corner Of His Jaw; First Mouthed, To Be Last Swallowed: When He Needs What You Have Gleaned, It Is But Squeezing You, And, Sponge, You Shall Be Dry Again. Rosencrantz: I Understand You Not, My Lord. Hamlet: I Am Glad Of It: A Knavish Speech Sleeps In A Foolish Ear.

The More Pity, That Fools May Not Speak Wisely What Wise Men Do Foolishly.

Funny Inspirational

Virtue That Transgresses Is But Patched With Sin; And Sin That Amends Is But Patched With Virtue.

By Heaven, I'll Make A Ghost Of Him That Lets Me.

Denmark In Hamlet

To Go To Bed After Midnight Is To Go To Bed Betimes

Prepare For Mirth, For Mirth Becomes A Feast.

O, Wonder! How Many Goodly Creatures Are There Here! How Beauteous Mankind Is! O Brave New World, That Has Such People In't!

Brave New World

Between The Acting Of A Dreadful Thing And The First Motion, All The Interim Is Like A Phantasma Or A Hideous Dream.

He Reads Much; He Is A Great Observer And He Looks Quite Through The Deeds Of Men: He Loves No Plays, As Thou Dost, Antony; He Hears No Music; Seldom He Smiles, And Smiles In Such A Sort As If He Mock'd Himself And Scorn'd His Spirit That Could Be Moved To Smile At Any Thing. Such Men As He Be Never At Heart's Ease Whiles They Behold A Greater Than Themselves, And Therefore Are They Very Dangerous.

In Brief, Sir, Study What You Most Affect.

Cry "havoc!" And Let Loose The Dogs Of War, That This Foul Deed Shall Smell Above The Earth With Carrion Men, Groaning For Burial.

Wrong Hath But Wrong, And Blame The Due Of Blame.

And Where Two Raging Fires Meet Together, They Do Consume The Thing That Feeds Their Fury.

With Mirth And Laughter Let Old Wrinkles Come.

Some Men Never Seem To Grow Old. Always Active In Thought, Always Ready To Adopt New Ideas, They Are Never Chargeable With Foggyism. Satisfied, Yet Ever Dissatisfied, Settled, Yet Ever Unsettled, They Always Enjoy The Best Of What Is, Are The First To Find The Best Of What Will Be.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

And Worse I May Be Yet: The Worst Is Not So Long As We Can Say 'this Is The Worst.

Corruption Wins Not More Than Honesty. Still In Thy Right Hand Carry Gentle Peace, To Silence Envious Tongues.

Now, Neighbor Confines, Purge You Of Your Scum! Have You A Ruffian That Will Swear, Drink, Dance, Revel The Night, Rob, Murder, And Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind Of Ways?

And Be These Juggling Friends No More Believ'd, That Palter With Us In A Double Sense; That Keep The Word Of Promise To Our Ear And Break It To Our Hope.

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece.

So May I, Blind Fortune Leading Me, Miss That Which One Unworthier May Attain, And Die With Grieving.

For Such Things As You, I Can Scarce Think There's Any, Ye're So Slight.

Venus Smiles Not In A House Of Tears.

Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment Late.

An Habitation Giddy And Unsure Hath He That Buildeth On The Vulgar Heart.

The Wildest Hath Not Such A Heart As You. Run When You Will, The Story Shall Be Changed: Apollo Flies, And Daphne Holds The Chase; The Dove Pursues The Griffin; The Mild Hind Makes Speed To Catch The Tiger; Bootless Speed, When Cowardice Pursues And Valour Flies.

To Move Is To Stir, And To Be Valiant Is To Stand; Therefore, If Tou Art Mov'd, Thou Runst Away. (to Be Angry Is To Move, To Be Brave Is To Stand Still. Therefore, If You're Angry, You'll Run Away.)

O, Reason Not The Need!

Nay, We Must Think Men Are Not Gods, Nor Of Them Look For Such Observancy As Fits The Bridal.

Farewell, A Long Farewell To All My Greatness! This Is The State Of Man: Today He Puts Forth The Tender Leaves Of Hope, Tomorrow Blossoms, And Bears His Blushing Honours Thick Upon Him: The Third Day Comes A Frost, A Killing Frost, And - When He Thinks, Good Easy Man, Full Surely His Greatness Is A-ripening - Nips His Root, And Then He Falls, As I Do.

Cowards Die Many Times; A Brave Man Dies But Once.

The Very Substance Of The Ambitious Is Merely The Shadow Of A Dream.

Fairest Cordelia, That Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Loved, Despised! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon: Be It Lawful I Take Up What's Cast Away. Gods, Gods! 'tis Strange That From Their Cold'st Neglect My Love Should Kindle To Inflamed Respect. Thy Dowerless Daughter, King, Thrown To My Chance, Is Queen Of Us, Of Ours, And Our Fair France: Not All The Dukes Of Waterish Burgundy Can Buy This Unprized Precious Maid Of Me. Bid Them Farewell, Cordelia, Though Unkind: Thou Losest Here, A Better Where To Find.

What Is A Man, If His Chief Good And Market Of His Time Be But To Sleep And Feed? A Beast, No More. Sure He That Made Us With Such Large Discourse, Looking Before And After, Gave Us Not That Capability And God-like Reason To Fust In Us Unused.

Before And After

Pride Went Before, Ambition Follows Him.

That Which Ordinary Men Are Fit For, I Am Qualified In. And The Best Of Me Is Diligence.

How Every Fool Can Play Upon The Word!

Day, Night, Late, Early, At Home, Abroad, Alone, In Company, Waking Or Sleeping, Still My Care Hath Been To Have Her Match'd; And Having Now Provided A Gentleman Of Princely Parentage, Of Fair Demesnes, Youthful, And Nobly Train'd, Stuff'd, As They Say, With Honourable Parts, Proportion'd As One's Thought Would Wish A Man- And Then To Have A Wretched Puling Fool, A Whining Mammet, In Her Fortune's Tender, To Answer 'i'll Not Wed, I Cannot Love; I Am Too Young, I Pray You Pardon Me'!

Time, Whose Millioned Accidents Creep In Betwixt Vows, And Change Decrees Of Kings, Tan Sacred Beauty, Blunt The Sharpest Intents, Divert Strong Minds To The Course Of Altering Things.

That Is Honor's Scorn Which Challenges Itself As Honor's Born And Is Not Like The Sire. Honors Thrive When Rather From Our Acts We Them Derive Than Our Foregoers.

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

It Is To Be All Made Of Fantasy, All Made Of Passion And All Made Of Wishes, All Adoration, Duty, And Observance, All Humbleness, All Patience And Impatience, All Purity, All Trial, All Observance

Henceforth, I'll Bear Affliction Till It Do Cry Out Itself, 'enough, Enough, And Die.

Of Chastity, The Ornaments Are Chaste.

Out Of Her Favour, Where I Am In Love.

Romeo And Juliet Love

Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King Keeps Death His Court.

Beauty Is Bought By Judgement Of The Eye.

Beautiful Women

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.

They Say Best Men Are Molded Out Of Faults, And, For The Most, Become Much More The Better For Being A Little Bad

You Are My True And Honourable Wife; As Dear To Me As The Ruddy Drops That Visit My Sad Heart.

Light Boats Sail Swift, Though Greater Hulks Draw Deep.

Never Shame To Hear What You Have Nobly Done

What, My Dear Lady Disdain! Are You Yet Living? Beatrice: Is It Possible Disdain Should Die While She Hath Such Meet Food To Feed It As Signior Benedick?

The Nature Of Bad News Affects The Teller.

He Says, He Loves My Daughter; I Think So Too; For Never Gaz'd The Moon Upon The Water, As He'll Stand And Read, As 'twere, My Daughter's Eyes: And, To Be Plain, I Think, There Is Not Half A Kiss To Choose, Who Loves Another Best.

But She Makes Hungry Where She Most Satisfies.

A Fusty Nut With No Kernel.

A Stirring Dwarf We Do Allowance Give Before A Sleeping Giant.

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

Graze On My Lips; And If Those Hills Be Dry, Stray Lower, Where The Pleasant Fountains Lie.

When That The Poor Have Cried, Caesar Hath Wept: Ambition Should Be Made Of Sterner Stuff: Yet Brutus Says He Was Ambitious; And Brutus Is An Honourable Man.

A Very Ancient And Fish-like Smell.

But Shall We Wear These Glories For A Day? Or Shall They Last, And We Rejoice In Them?

Ay, But To Die, And Go We Know Not Where.

Measure For Measure

Have I Thought Long To See This Morning’s Face, And Doth It Give Me Such A Sight As This?

I'll Say She Looks As Clear As Morning Roses Newly Washed With Dew.

Every Thing That Grows / Holds In Perfection But A Little Moment.

Come, Let's Have One Other Gaudy Night. Call To Me All My Sad Captains. Fill Our Bowls Once More. Let's Mock The Midnight Bell.

Some Kinds Of Baseness Are Nobly Undergone.

Women May Fall When There's No Strength In Men.

I Have Very Poor And Unhappy Brains For Drinking.

Love Is Blind, It Stops Lovers Seeing The Silly Things They Do.

The Elephant Hath Joints, But None For Courtesy; His Legs Are Legs For Necessity, Not For Flexure.

The Devil Hath Power To Assume A Pleasing Shape.

O, That This Too Too Solid Flesh Would Melt Thaw And Resolve Itself Into A Dew! Or That The Everlasting Had Not Fix'd His Canon 'gainst Self-slaughter! O God! God! How Weary, Stale, Flat And Unprofitable, (135) Seem To Me All The Uses Of This World! Fie On't! Ah Fie! 'tis An Unweeded Garden, That Grows To Seed; Things Rank And Gross In Nature Possess It Merely. That It Should Come To This! But Two Months Dead: Nay, Not So Much, Not Two: (140) So Excellent A King; That Was, To This.

Press Not A Falling Man Too Far; 'tis Virtue: His Faults Lie Open To The Laws; Let Them, Not You, Correct Him.

"lawyers Are": Perilous Mouths.

We Will Draw The Curtain And Show You The Picture.

Thanks, Sir; All The Rest Is Mute.

I Am As Vigilant As A Cat To Steal Cream.

Why Are Our Bodies Soft, And Weak, And Smooth But That Our Soft Conditions And Our Hearts Should Well Agree With Our External Parts?

What's Done Cannot Be Undone. To Bed, To Bed, To Bed.

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

Your Tale, Sir, Would Cure Deafness.

It Is The Witness Still Of Excellency To Put A Strange Face On His Own Perfection.

O Horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue Nor Heart Cannot Conceive Nor Name Thee!

Enough No More; Tis Not So Sweet Now As It Was Before.

Twelfth Night Important

O, Grief Hath Changed Me Since You Saw Me Last, And Careful Hours With Time's Deformed Hand Have Written Strange Defeatures In My Face. But Tell Me Yet, Dost Thou Not Know My Voice?

Then Let Thy Love Be Younger Than Thyself, Or Thy Affection Cannot Hold The Bent.

Oh, Thou Did'st Then Ne'er Love So Heartily. If Thou Rememb'rest Not The Slightest Folly That Ever Love Did Make Thee Run Inot, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Has't Not Sat As I Do Now, Wearying They Hearer In Thy Mistress's Praise, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Hast Not Broke From Company Abruptly, As My Passion Now Makes Me, Thou Has Not Loved. (silvius)

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

It Is The Cowish Terror Of His Spirit That Dares Not Undertake; He'll Not Feel Wrongs Which Tie Him To An Answer.

I Was Too Young That Time To Value Her, But Now I Know Her. If She Be A Traitor, Why, So Am I. We Still Have Slept Together, Rose At An Instant, Learned, Played, Eat Together, And Wheresoe'er We Went, Like Juno's Swans, Still We Went Coupled And Inseparable.

Of All The Fair Resort Of Gentlemen That Every Day With Parle Encounter Me, In Thy Opinion Which Is Worthiest Love?

How Slow This Old Moon Wanes! She Lingers My Desires, Like To A Stepdame, Or A Dowager, Long Withering Out A Young Man's Revenue.

Men Of Few Words Are The Best Men." (3.2.41)

Written Language

Short Time Seems Long In Sorrow's Sharp Sustaining.

All Men's Faces Are True, Whatsome'er Their Hands Are.

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

The Very Firstlings Of My Heart Shall Be The Firstlings Of My Hand.

His Jest Will Savour But Of Shallow Wit, When Thousands Weep, More Than Did Laugh At It.

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

To Sue To Live, I Find I Seek To Die; And, Seeking Death, Find Life: Let It Come On.

Most Subject Is The Fattest Soil To Weeds.

Like One Who Having Into Truth, By Telling Of It, Made Such A Sinner Of His Memory, To Credit His Own Lie.

Two May Keep Counsel Putting One Away!

Women Speak Two Languages - One Of Which Is Verbal.

I Have A Bone To Pick With Fate

Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Hand Out Of Plackets, Thy Pen From Lender's Books, And Defy The Foul Fiend.

A Book? O, Rare One, Be Not, As Is Our Fangled World, A Garment Nobler Than That It Covers.

He's A Soldier; And For One To Say A Soldier Lies, Is Stabbing.

O, Where Is Loyalty? If It Be Banished From The Frosty Head, Where Shall It Find A Harbor In The Earth?

For They Are Yet Ear-kissing Arguments.

Love Is Not Love That Alters When It Alteration Finds.

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun. Arise, Fair Sun, And Kill The Envious Moon, Who Is Already Sick And Pale With Grief, That Thou, Her Maid, Art Far More Fair Than She. Be Not Her Maid, Since She Is Envious; Her Vestal Livery Is But Sick And Green And None But Fools Do Wear It; Cast It Off. It Is My Lady, O, It Is My Love! Oh, That She Knew She Were!

Double, Double, Toil And Trouble; Fire Burn, And Cauldron Bubble!

Romeo There Is Thy Gold, Worse Poison To Men's Souls, Doing More Murders In This Loathsome World, Than These Poor Compounds That Thou Mayst Not Sell. I Sell Thee Poison; Thou Hast Sold Me None. Farewell: Buy Food, And Get Thyself In Flesh. Come, Cordial And Not Poison, Go With Me To Juliet's Grave; For There Must I Use Thee.

Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For I Wear Not, My Dagger In My Mouth.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.

Who Finds The Heifer Dead And Bleeding Fresh And Sees Fast-by A Butcher With An Axe, But Will Suspect 'twas He That Made The Slaughter?

Soft Pity Enters An Iron Gate.

This Blessed Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England.

Precious Stones

Paradise On Earth

We Must Love Men, Ere To Us They Will Seem Worthy Of Our Love.

O, Train Me Not, Sweet Mermaid, With Thy Note, To Drown Me In Thy Sister’s Flood Of Tears.

Polonius: What Do You Read, My Lord? Hamlet: Words, Words, Words.

Lay Not That Flattering Unction To Your Soul, That Not Your Trespass But My Madness Speaks.

Cease To Lament For That Thou Canst Not Help; And Study Help For That Which Thou Lamentest.

Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

Live Loath'd And Long, Most Smiling, Smooth, Detested Parasites, Courteous Destroyers, Affable Wolves, Meek Bears, You Fools Of Fortune, Trencher Friends, Time Flies Cap And Knee Slaves, Vapors, And Minute Jacks.

O Sleep, O Gentle Sleep, Nature's Soft Nurse, How Have I Frightened Thee, 1710. That Thou No More Will Weigh My Eyelids Down, And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness?

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

Swift As Shadow, Short As Any Dream

Watch Tonight, Pray Tomorrow. Gallants, Lads, Boys, Hearts Of Gold, All The Titles Of Good Fellowship Come To You!

The Urging Of That Word, Judgment, Hath Bred A Kind Of Remorse In Me.

I See Men's Judgments Are A Parcel Of Their Fortunes; And Things Outward Do Draw The Inward Quality After Them, To Suffer All Alike.

My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things Forgotten.

All The World Is A Stage And We Are Merely Players.

Thou Shalt Be Free As Mountain Winds: But Then Exactly Do All Points Of My Command.

The Spirit Of A Youth That Means To Be Of Note, Begins Betimes.

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

Virtue Is Bold, And Goodness Never Fearful.

I Was A Coward On Instinct.

To Die, To Sleep - To Sleep, Perchance To Dream - Ay, There's The Rub, For In This Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I A Vine.

A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be.

The Gods Are Just, And Of Our Pleasant Vices Make Instruments To Plague Us.

To Hold, As 't Were, The Mirror Up To Nature.

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And No Man Regards It.

Heaven Give You Many, Many Merry Days.

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

The Man That Hath No Music In Himself

So May He Rest, His Faults Lie Gently On Him!

You Will Never Age For Me, Nor Fade, Nor Die.

What Man Dare, I Dare. Approach Thou Like The Rugged Russian Bear, The Armed Rhinoceros, Or Th' Hyrcan Tiger; Take Any Shape But That, And My Firm Nerves Shall Never Tremble.

Though I Look Old, Yet I Am Strong And Lusty; For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood; And Did Not, With Unbashful Forehead, Woo The Means Of Weakness And Debility: Therefore My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Merely Players: They Have Their Exits And Their Entrances; And One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts, His Acts Being Seven Ages.

Sigh No More Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever

I Do Not Hate A Proud Man, As I Do Hate The Engendering Of Toads.

As Good Luck Would Have It, Comes In One Mistress Page, Gives Intelligence Of Ford's Approach, And In Her Invention, And Ford's Wife's Distraction, They Conveyed Me Into A Buck-basket.

Then To Silvia Let Us Sing That Silvia Is Excelling. She Excels Each Mortal Thing Upon The Dull Earth Dwelling.

To Be, Or Not To Be, That Is The Question.

When You Fear A Foe, Fear Crushes Your Strength; And This Weakness Gives Strength To Your Opponents.

Methinks Sometimes I Have No More Wit Than A Christian Or An Ordinary Man Has; But I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

He Is Well Paid That Is Well Satisfied.

Take You Me For A Sponge?

I Have Heard It Said There Is An Art Which In Their Piedness Shares With Great Creating Nature.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

Villains, Vipers, Damn'd Without Redemption; Dogs, Easily Won To Fawn On Any Man; Snakes In My Heart-blood Warm'd, That Sing My Heart; Three Judases, Each One Thrice Worse Than Judas.

I Had As Lief Have Been Myself Alone.

Affection Faints Not Like A Pale-faced Coward, But Then Woos Best When Most His Choice Is Froward.

Oh, She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright! It Seems She Hangs Upon The Cheek Of Night Like A Rich Jewel In An Ethiope’s Ear, Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear. So Shows A Snowy Dove Trooping With Crows As Yonder Lady O'er Her Fellows Shows. The Measure Done, I’ll Watch Her Place Of Stand, And, Touching Hers, Make Blessèd My Rude Hand. Did My Heart Love Till Now? Forswear It, Sight! For I Ne'er Saw True Beauty Till This Night.

The Instances That Second Marriage Move Are Base Respects Of Thrift, But None Of Love.

I Think Thy Horse Will Sooner Con An Oration Than Thou Learn A Prayer Without Book.

Smooth Runs The Water Where The Brook Is Deep.

Every Cloud Engenders Not A Storm.

I Stand For Judgment: Answer: Shall I Have It?

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still For That Which Longer Nurseth The Disease, Feeding On That Which Doth Preserve The Ill, Th' Uncertain Sickly Appetite To Please. My Reason, The Physician To My Love, Angry That His Prescriptions Are Not Kept, Hath Left Me, And I Desperate Now Approve Desire Is Death, Which Physic Did Except.

Though It Be Honest, It Is Never Good To Bring Bad News.

Alas, That Love, So Gentle In His View, Should Be So Tyrannous And Rough In Proof! *it’s Sad. Love Looks Like A Nice Thing, But It’s Actually Very Rough When You Experience It.*

Against Love's Fire Fear`s Frost Hath Dissolution

But Now Behold, In The Quick Forge And Working-house Of Thought, How London Doth Pour Out Her Citizens!

What Seest Thou Else In The Dark Backward And Abysm Of Time?

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