Watch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you!

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.

If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.

Grace and remembrance be to you both.

O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!

You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame