You Cannot, Sir, Take From Me Any

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love ............ The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes

Mean And Mighty, Rotting Together, Have One Dust.

I Have Thrust Myself Into This Maze, Haply To Wive And Thrive As Best I May.

You Jig, You Amble, And You Lisp.

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!