He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache

I wonder that you will still be talking. Nobody marks you.

Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!

Let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.