Home-keeping Youth Have Ever Homely Wits.

Tears Water Our Growth.

What? Do I Love Her, That I Desire To Hear Her Speak Again, And Feast Upon Her Eyes

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Merely Players: They Have Their Exits And Their Entrances; And One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts, His Acts Being Seven Ages.

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy That It Alone Is High Fantastical.