And Where The Offense Is, Let The

Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

Have Not Saints Lips, And Holy Palmers Too Ay, Pilgrim, Lips That They Must Use In Prayer.

The Undeserver May Sleep When The Man Of Action Is Called On.

At Christmas I No More Desire A Rose Than Wish A Snow In May's New-fangled Mirth; But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

Jaques: Rosalind Is Your Love's Name? Orlando: Yes, Just. Jaques: I Do Not Like Her Name. Orlando: There Was No Thought Of Pleasing You When She Was Christened.