Do Not Spread The Compost On The

Do Not Swear By The Moon, For She Changes Constantly. Then Your Love Would Also Change.

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

I Go, I Go, Look How I Go, Swifter Than An Arrow From A Bow

You Have Too Much Respect Upon The World; They Lose It That Do Buy It With Much Care

He Is Dead And Gone, Lady, He Is Dead And Gone; At His Head A Grass-green Turf, At His Heels A Stone.