O Shame, Where Is Thy Blush?

There Is Some Soul Of Goodness In Things Evil, Would Men Observingly Distill It Out.

Virtue Is Chok'd With Foul Ambition

What Drink'st Thou Oft, Instead Of Homage Sweet, But Poisoned Flattery?

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds Admit Impediments: Love Is Not Love Which Alters When It Alteration Finds.

Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths; The Valiant Never Taste Of Death But Once. Of All The Wonders That I Yet Have Heard, It Seems To Me Most Strange That Men Should Fear; Seeing That Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come.