Friendship Is Full Of Dregs.

I Will Through And Through Cleanse The Foul Body Of Th' Infected World, If They Will Patiently Receive My Medicine.

A Plague On Both Your Houses.

Music, Moody Food Of Us That Trade In Love.

I Know A Bank Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows, Quite Over-canopied With Luscious Woodbine, With Sweet Musk-roses And With Eglantine.

Let Not The World See Fear And Sad Distrust Govern The Motion Of A Kingly Eye.