A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is

Fill All Thy Bones With Aches.

Macduff: What Three Things Does Drink Especially Provoke? Porter: Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleep, And Urine.

As Full Of Spirit As The Month Of May, And As Gorgeous As The Sun In Midsummer.

Madam, You Have Bereft Me Of All Words, Only My Blood Speaks To You In My Veins.

Fear No More The Heat O' Th' Sun Nor The Furious Winters' Rages; Thou Thy Worldly Task Hast Done, Home Art Gone, And Ta'en Thy Wages. Golden Lads And Girls All Must, As Chimney-sweepers, Come To Dust.