Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.

Love's stories written in love's richest books. To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.

Thou art a Castilian King urinal!

Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.

I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much.

He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat.