There Is Little Choice In A Barrel

Unnatural Deeds Do Breed Unnatural Troubles.

Tell Me, Daughter Juliet, How Stands Your Dispositions To Be Married" It Is An Honor That I Dream Not Of

A Good Leg Will Fall; A Straight Back Will Stoop; A Black Beard Will Turn White; A Curl'd Pate Will Grow Bald; A Fair Face Will Wither; A Full Eye Will Wax Hollow: But A Good Heart, Kate, Is The Sun And The Moon; Or, Rather, The Sun, And Not The Moon, — For It Shines Bright, And Never Changes, But Keeps His Course Truly.

Is It Possible That Love Should Of A Sudden Take Such A Hold?

Let Me Have War, Say I; It Exceeds Peace As Far As Day Does Night; It's Spritely, Waking, Audible, And Full Of Vent.