Making Night Hideous.

I Will Speak Daggers To Her, But Use None.

Love Is Not Love Which Alters When It Alteration Finds, Or Bends With The Remover To Remove. O, No! It Is An Ever-fixed Mark, That Looks On Tempests And Is Never Shaken. It Is The Star To Every Wandering Bark, Whose Worth's Unknown, Although His Height Be Taken.

I Can See His Pride Peep Through Each Part Of Him.

Good Fortune Then! To Make Me Blest Or Cursed'st Among Men.

My Friends Were Poor, But Honest, So's My Love.