There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered.

Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces

We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion.

My heart is ever at your service.

O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.

Then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond.