Thou Lump Of Foul Deformity!

They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit.

A Glooming Peace This Morning With It Brings; The Sun, For Sorrow, Will Not Show His Head: Go Hence, To Have More Talk Of These Sad Things; Some Shall Be Pardon'd, And Some Punished: For Never Was A Story Of More Woe Than This Of Juliet And Her Romeo.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

A Scar Nobly Got Is A Good Livery Of Honor.

You Know Who You Are, But Know Not Who You Could Be.