O, I Do Not Like

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounc'd It To You, Trippingly On The Tongue.

Nature Hath Framed Strange Fellows In Her Time.

Be Checked For Silence, But Never Taxed For Speech.

The Blood Of Youth Burns Not With Such Excess As Gravity's Revolt To Wantonness.

Hamlet: Lady, Shall I Lie In Your Lap? Ophelia: No, My Lord. Hamlet: Did You Think I Meant Country Matters? Ophelia: I Think Nothing, My Lord. Hamlet: That's A Fair Thought To Lie Between Maids' Legs. Ophelia: What Is, My Lord? Hamlet: Nothing.