Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button.
Unsubstantial Death is amorous.
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.