One man in his time plays many parts.

Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.

I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?