Let Me Confess That We Two Must

Let Me Not Live, After My Flame Lacks Oil, To Be The Snuff Of Younger Spirits.

Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under It.

If There Is A Good Will, There Is Great Way.

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

I Hate Ingratitude More In A Man Than Lying, Vainness, Babbling, Drunkenness, Or Any Taint Of Vice Whose Strong Corruption Inhabits Our Frail Blood".