Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops." Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.

Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.

Give to a gracious message An host of tongues, but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt.

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old.

The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!

So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end

Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.