Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of

And Since You Know You Cannot See Yourself, So Well As By Reflection, I, Your Glass, Will Modestly Discover To Yourself, That Of Yourself Which You Yet Know Not Of.

Love Is Merely A Madness.

Double, Double, Toil And Trouble; Fire Burn, And Cauldron Bubble!

I Bear A Charmed Life, Which Must Not Yield To One Of Woman Born.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.