Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.

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

Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then it hath no end.

This is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without security.

And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.