Though Patience Be A Tired Mare, Yet

Light Seeking Light Doth Light Of Light Beguile: So, Ere You Find Where Light In Darkness Lies, Your Light Grows Dark By Losing Of Your Eyes.

And What Art Thou, Thou Idol Ceremony? What Kind Of God Art Thou, That Suffer'st More Of Mortal Griefs Than Do Thy Worshippers?

Farewell, Good Salisbury, And Good Luck Go With Thee!

Despair And Die. The Ghosts

Romeo: I Dreamt A Dream Tonight. Mercutio: And So Did I. Romeo: Well, What Was Yours? Mercutio: That Dreamers Often Lie. Romeo: In Bed Asleep While They Do Dream Things True.