My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

I understand a fury in your words But not your words.

They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them

I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.

Come give us a taste of your quality.

Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!

He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.