Every why hath a wherefore.
Though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve.
Shall I never see a bachelor of three score again?
A light heart lives long.
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.
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.