Nature Hath Meal And Bran, Contempt And

I Have A Kind Soul That Would Give You Thanks. And Knows Not How To Do It But With Tears.

A Miracle. Here's Our Own Hands Against Our Hearts. Come, I Will Have Thee, But By This Light I Take Thee For Pity. Beatrice: I Would Not Deny You, But By This Good Day, I Yield Upon Great Persuasion, And Partly To Save Your Life, For I Was Told You Were In A Consumption. Benedick: Peace. I Will Stop Your Mouth.

Nor Shall This Peace Sleep With Her; But As When The Bird Of Wonder Dies, The Maiden Phoenix, Her Ashes New-create Another Heir As Great In Admiration As Herself.

Crowns Have Their Compass-length Of Days Their Date- Triumphs Their Tomb-felicity, Her Fate- Of Nought But Earth Can Earth Make Us Partaker, But Knowledge Makes A King Most Like His Maker.

Short Summers Lightly Have A Forward Spring.