Thou Knowest, Winter Tames Man, Woman, And

As True As Steel, As Plantage To The Moon, As Sun To Day, At Turtle To Her Mate, As Iron To Adamant, As Earth To Centre.

Polonius: What Do You Read, My Lord? Hamlet: Words, Words, Words.

Never Durst Poet Touch A Pen To Write Until His Ink Were Temper'd With Love's Sighs.

Go, Bid The Soldiers Shoot.

And Thence From Athens Turn Away Our Eyes To Seek New Friends And Stranger Companies.