Who Can Be Patient In Extremes?

Then With The Losers Let It Sympathize, For Nothing Can Seem Foul To Those That Win.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You

O, That This Too Too Solid Flesh Would Melt Thaw And Resolve Itself Into A Dew! Or That The Everlasting Had Not Fix'd His Canon 'gainst Self-slaughter! O God! God! How Weary, Stale, Flat And Unprofitable, (135) Seem To Me All The Uses Of This World! Fie On't! Ah Fie! 'tis An Unweeded Garden, That Grows To Seed; Things Rank And Gross In Nature Possess It Merely. That It Should Come To This! But Two Months Dead: Nay, Not So Much, Not Two: (140) So Excellent A King; That Was, To This.

I Love Thee, And It Is My Love That Speaks

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.