He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream

The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.

Delivers in such apt and gracious words that aged ears play truant at his tales; And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.

Are you up to your destiny?

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!