My Love's More Richer Than My Tongue.

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

A Hand As Fruitful As The Land That Feeds Us; His Dew Falls Everywhere.

We Are Ready To Try Our Fortunes To The Last Man.

Ever Note, Lucilius, When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay It Useth An Enforced Ceremony. There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith; But Hollow Men, Like Horses Hot At Hand, Make Gallant Show And Promise Of Their Mettle; But When They Should Endure The Bloody Spur, They Fall Their Crests, And Like Deceitful Jades Sink In The Trial.

And It Is Very Much Lamented,... That You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye That You Might See Your Shadow.