Friendship Is Full Of Dregs.

As Flies To Wanton Boys, Are We To The Gods; They Kill Us For Their Sport.

No Metal Can--no, Not The Hangman's Axe--bear Half The Keenness Of Thy Sharp Envy.

The Instances That Second Marriage Move Are Base Respects Of Thrift, But None Of Love.

If Thou Couldst, Doctor, Cast The Water Of My Land, Find Her Disease, And Purge It To A Sound And Pristine Health, I Would Applaud Thee To The Very Echo, That Should Applaud You Again.

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun.