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.

By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.

The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.

We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.

Give thy thoughts no tongue, nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much.

'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.