And A Man's Life's No More Than

Love Is Merely A Madness.

Benvolio: What Sadness Lengthens Romeo's Hours? Romeo: Not Having That, Which, Having, Makes Them Short.

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Cordelia! Stay A Little. Ha! What Is't Thou Say'st? Her Voice Was Ever Soft.