And Oft, My Jealousy Shapes Faults That

If We Are True To Ourselves, We Can Not Be False To Anyone.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strained

And Writers Say, As The Most Forward Bud Is Eaten By The Canker Ere It Blow, Even So By Love The Young And Tender Wit Is Turn'd To Folly, Blasting In The Bud, Losing His Verdure Even In The Prime, And All The Fair Effects Of Future Hopes.

Let Me Tell You, Cassius, You Yourself Are Much Condemned To Have An Itching Palm.

Love Is The Greatest Of Dreams, Yet The Worst Of Nightmares.