Every Man Has A Bag Hanging Before

For Mercutio's Soul Is But A Little Way Above Our Heads, Staying For Thine To Keep Him Company: Either Thou, Or I, Or Both, Must Go With Him.

Like A Barber's Chair That Fits All Buttocks.

A Light Heart Lives Long.

Love Does Not See With The Eyes, But With The Soul.

No Deeper Wrinkles Yet? Hath Sorrow Struck So Many Blows Upon This Face Of Mine And Made No Deeper Wounds?