Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?

we are the lords of all eternity

Present mirth hath present laughter. What's to come is still unsure.

Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.

Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.

From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.