Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.

Love is a spirit all compact of fire.

Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.

Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.

While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.

Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.

Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.