The Best Is Yet To Come.

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

As You Are Old And Reverend, You Should Be Wise.

Though Patience Be A Tired Mare, Yet She Will Plod.

My Affection Hath An Unknown Bottom, Like The Bay Of Portugal.

If You Have Tears, Prepare To Shed Them Now.