Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman!

In Thy Face I See The Map Of Honour, Truth And Loyalty.

Great Men May Jest With Saints; 'tis Wit In Them; But, In The Less Foul Profanation.

I Wasted Time, And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

I Sat Upon A Promontory, And Heard A Mermaid, On A Dolphin's Back, Uttering Such Dulcet And Harmonious Breath, That The Rude Sea Grew Civil At Her Song; And Certain Stars Shot Madly From Their Spheres, To Hear The Sea-maid's Music.

Gratiano Speaks An Infinite Deal Of Nothing, More Than Any Man In All Venice. His Reasons Are As Two Grains Of Wheat Hid In Two Bushels Of Chaff: You Shall Seek All Day Ere You Find Them, And When You Have Them, They Are Not Worth The Search.