'tis Pride That Pulls The Country Down.

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.

Should All Despair That Have Revolted Wives, The Tenth Of Mankind Would Hang Themselves.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

If There Be No Great Love In The Beginning, Yet Heaven May Decrease It Upon Better Acquaintance, When We Are Married And Have More Occasion To Know One Another: I Hope, Upon Familiarity Will Grow More Contempt.

O, Teach Me How You Look, And With What Art You Sway The Motion Of Demetrius' Heart."-helena