I'll Break My Staff, Bury

Not All The Water In The Rough Rude Sea Can Wash The Balm From An Anointed King.

For Mercutio's Soul Is But A Little Way Above Our Heads, Staying For Thine To Keep Him Company: Either Thou, Or I, Or Both, Must Go With Him.

Teach Me, Dear Creature, How To Think And Speak; Lay Open To My Earthy-gross Conceit, Smother'd In Errors, Feeble, Shallow, Weak, The Folded Meaning Of Your Words' Deceit.

Full Fathom Five Thy Father Lies

Too Much To Know Is To Know Nought But Fame; And Every Godfather Can Give A Name.