In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too

Temptation Is The Fire That Brings Up The Scum Of The Heart.

Foul Whisp'rings Are Abroad.

I Am In Blood Stepp'd In So Far, That, Should I Wade No More, Returning Were As Tedious As Go O'er.

What Can Be Happier Than For A Man, Conscious Of Virtuous Acts, And Content With Liberty, To Despise All Human Affairs?

Women Are As Roses, Whose Fair Flower, Being Once Displayed, Doth Fall That Very Hour.