Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.

Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate

Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.

What can be happier than for a man, conscious of virtuous acts, and content with liberty, to despise all human affairs?

So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.

Preferred three hours quicker over one moment late.