I Am A True Laborer:

Two Households, Both Alike In Dignity In Fair Verona, Where We Lay Our Scene From Ancient Grudge Break To New Mutiny Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean. From Forth The Fatal Loins Of These Two Foes A Pair Of Star-cross'd Lovers Take Their Life Whose Misadventured Piteous Overthrows Do With Their Death Bury Their Parents' Strife.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

You Cannot, Sir, Take From Me Any Thing That I Will More Willingly Part Withal: Except My Life, Except My Life, Except My Life.

Costly Thy Habit [dress] As Thy Purse Can Buy; But Not Expressed In Fancy - Rich, Not Gaudy. For The Apparel Oft Proclaims The Man.

There's Her Cousin, An She Were Not Possessed With A Fury, Exceeds Her As Much In Beauty As The First Of May Doth The Last Of December.