The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
The weakest goes to the wall.
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.
O wretched state! o bosom black as death!
And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous men.