Tis In Ourselves That We

I Will Do Anything, Nerissa, Ere I'll Be Married To A Sponge.

If There Be No Great Love In The Beginning, Yet Heaven May Decrease It Upon Better Acquaintance, When We Are Married And Have More Occasion To Know One Another: I Hope, Upon Familiarity Will Grow More Contempt.

All The Perfumes Of Arabia Will Not Sweeten This Little Hand! Oh, Oh, Oh!

Confess Yourself To Heaven, Repent What's Past, Avoid What Is To Come, And Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds To Make Them Ranker.

A Loud Laugh Bespeaks A Vacant Mind!