And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.

For such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, ye're so slight.

What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.

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

His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.

When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence; so sweet is zealous contemplation.