Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In

You Told A Lie, An Odious Damned Lie; Upon My Soul, A Lie, A Wicked Lie.

Sweet Love! Sweet Lines! Sweet Life! Here Is Her Hand, The Agent Of Her Heart; Here Is Her Oath For Love, Her Honour's Pawn

Vile Worm, Thou Wast O'erlook'd Even In Thy Birth.

Gloucester: I Do Not Know That Englishman Alive With Whom My Soul Is Any Jot At Odds, More Than The Infant That Is Born To-night: I Thank My God For My Humility.

A Happy Ending Cannot Come In The Middle Of The Story