As Chaste As Unsunned Snow.

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

Juliet Is The East And I Am The Sun.

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire; Doubt That The Sun Doth Move; Doubt Truth To Be A Liar; But Never Doubt I Love.

To Climb Steep Hills Requires A Slow Pace At First.

And Caesar Shall Go Forth.