Suspicion Shall Be All Stuck

Wherefore Was I To This Keen Mockery Born? When At Your Hands Did I Deserve This Scorn? Is't Not Enough, Is't Not Enough, Young Man, That I Did Never, No, Nor Never Can, Deserve A Sweet Look From Demetrius' Eye, But You Must Flout My Insufficiency?

But I Will Wear My Heart Upon My Sleeve For Daws To Peck At: I Am Not What I Am.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony; Where Words Are Scarce, They're Seldom Spent In Vain; For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain.

Life... Is A Paradise To What We Know Of Death.