Allow Not Nature More Than Nature Needs.

And By That Destiny To Perform An Act Whereof What's Past Is Prologue, What To Come In Yours And My Discharge.

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? Thou Art More Lovely And More Temperate: Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May, And Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date . . .

Every Great Drama Has Its Foreshadow.

Ross You Must Have Patience, Madam. Lady Macduff He Had None: His Flight Was Madness: When Our Actions Do Not, Our Fears Do Make Us Traitors.

Downy Sleep, Death's Counterfeit.