Ay, When Fowls Have No Feathers And

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

Well, While I Live I'll Fear No Other Thing So Sore As Keeping Safe Nerissa's Ring.

True, I Talk Of Dreams, Which Are The Children Of An Idle Brain, Begot Of Nothing But Vain Fantasy.

Coward Dogs Most Spend Their Mouths When What They Seem To Threaten Runs Far Before Them.

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.