Your Date Is Better In Your Pie

O Me, You Juggler, You Canker-blossom, You Thief Of Love!

Our Purses Shall Be Proud, Our Garments Poor; For 'tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths; The Valiant Never Taste Of Death But Once. Of All The Wonders That I Yet Have Heard, It Seems To Me Most Strange That Men Should Fear; Seeing That Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come.

Twere To Consider Too Curiously, To Consider So.