O! that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come; But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known.

What a fool honesty is.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

I'll have no husband, if you be not he.

Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.

The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.

His worst fault is, he's given to prayer; he is something peevish that way.