for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. (Constance, from King John, Act III, scene 1)

My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.

Cordelia! stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft.

Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

Is this government of Britain's Isle, and this the royalty of Albion's King?

And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.

As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue