Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

Speak me fair in death.

In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow

Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)

And makes me poor indeed.

Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.

Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.