I Dote On His Very Absence.

To Die, To Sleep - To Sleep, Perchance To Dream - Ay, There's The Rub, For In This Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

From This Time Forth My Thoughts Be Bloody, Or Be Nothing Worth!

They Met So Near With Their Lips That Their Breaths Embraced Together.

He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Though She Be But Little, She Is Fierce!