Alas, how love can trifle with itself!

In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.

I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth

So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.

O,speak to me no more;these words like daggers enter my ears.(a fancy way of saying SHUT UP!)" — William Shakespeare "hamlet

Things may serve long, but not serve ever.