He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon

Excellent Wretch! Perdition Catch My Soul But I Do Love Thee! And When I Love Thee Not, Chaos Is Come Again.

And It Is Very Much Lamented,... That You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye That You Might See Your Shadow.

O Judgment ! Thou Art Fled To Brutish Beasts, And Men Have Lost Their Reason !

His Worst Fault Is, He's Given To Prayer; He Is Something Peevish That Way.

Then Is Courtesy A Turncoat. But It Is Certain I Am Loved Of All Ladies, Only You Excepted: And I Would I Could Find In My Heart That I Had Not A Hard Heart; For, Truly, I Love None. Beatrice: A Dear Happiness To Women: They Would Else Have Been Troubled With A Pernicious Suitor. I Thank God And My Cold Blood, I Am Of Your Humour For That: I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow Than A Man Swear He Loves Me. -much Ado About Nothing