Which means she to deceive, father or mother?

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.

But like of each thing that in season grows.

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

The prize of all too precious you.

A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.