The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.
I...Kisss the tender inward of thy hand.
O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful