I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Ey'd, Such Seems Your Beauty Still.

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

Yet Who Would Have Thought The Old Man To Have Had So Much Blood In Him? - Lady Macbeth

How Many Fond Fools Serve Mad Jealousy!