The Last Taste Of Sweets

Scratching Could Not Make It Worse, An't Were Such A Face As Yours Were.

Come, Lady, Die To Live.

I Understand A Fury In Your Words But Not Your Words.

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.

All That Glisters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told: Many A Man His Life Hath Sold But My Outside To Behold: Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold.