For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow, Than A Man Swear He Loves Me.

Remuneration! O! That's The Latin Word For Three Farthings

So Foul And Fair A Day I Have Not Seen.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.