O, Reason Not The Need!

On The Bat’s Back I Do Fly After Summer Merrily.

If You Spend Word For Word With Me, I Shall Make Your Wit Bankrupt.

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

In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too Fond.

This Day I Breathed First: Time Is Come Round, And Where I Did Begin There Shall I End; My Life Is Run His Compass.