Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.

O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.

Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.

I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched in so many giddy offences as He hath generally taxed their whole their whole sex withal.

Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down

Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one

Mind your speech a little lest you should mar your fortunes.