I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.
. . from this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done.
Awake, awake, English nobility! Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot.
They have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.
Headstrong liberty is lashed with woe.