We have some salt of our youth in us.
Juliet is the east and i am the sun.
How use doth breed a habit in a man.
Why, thou owest god a death.
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.
A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.