I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At

There's Beggary In Love That Can Be Reckoned

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!

The Hind That Would Be Mated By The Lion Must Die For Love.

I Will Keep Where There Is Wit Stirring, And Leave The Faction Of Fools.