Mine Eyes Smell Onions: I Shall Weep

By Heaven, I'll Make A Ghost Of Him That Lets Me.

The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly May Easily Untie.

Some Report A Sea-maid Spawn'd Him; Some That He Was Begot Between Two Stock-fishes. But It Is Certain That When He Makes Water His Urine Is Congealed Ice.

But I Will Be, A Bridegroom In My Death, And Run Into't As To A Lover's Bed.

There's Daggers In Men's Smiles.