The Time Is Out Of Joint.

Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn.

Ever Note, Lucilius, When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay It Useth An Enforced Ceremony. There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith; But Hollow Men, Like Horses Hot At Hand, Make Gallant Show And Promise Of Their Mettle; But When They Should Endure The Bloody Spur, They Fall Their Crests, And Like Deceitful Jades Sink In The Trial.

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

There's Many A Man Hath More Hair Than Wit.

Thou Art As Tyrannous, So As Thou Art, As Those Whose Beauties Proudly Make Them Cruel; For Well Thou Know'st To My Dear Doting Heart Thou Art The Fairest And Most Precious Jewel.