So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.

She is a woman, therefore to be won.

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother

And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.

We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.

I am a foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.

But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.