You Shall More Command With Years Than

There's Many A Man Hath More Hair Than Wit.

So Will I Turn Her Virtue Into Pitch, And Out Of Her Own Goodness Make The Net That Shall Enmesh Them All.

All Things Are Ready, If Our Mind Be So.

What, Keep A Week Away? Seven Days And Nights, Eightscore-eight Hours, And Lovers' Absent Hours More Tedious Than The Dial Eightscore Times! O Weary Reckoning!

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.