O Wretched State! O Bosom Black As

O That My Tongue Were In The Thunder's Mouth! Then With Passion Would I Shake The World.

Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting; It Is A Most Sharp Sauce.

Well, In That Hit You Miss. She'll Not Be Hit With Cupid's Arrow. She Hath Dian's Wit, And, In Strong Proff Of Chastity Well Armed, From Love's Weak Childish Bow She Lives Uncharmed. She Will Not Stay The Siege Of Loving Terms, Nor Bide Th' Encounter Of Assailing Eyes, Nor Ope Her Lap To Saint-seducing Gold. O, She Is Rich In Beauty; Only Poor That, When She Dies, With Dies Her Store. Act 1,scene 1, Lines 180-197

O! She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright It Seems She Hangs Upon The Cheek Of Night Like A Rich Jewel In An Ethiop's Ear; Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear. - Romeo -

Have Not Saints Lips, And Holy Palmers Too Ay, Pilgrim, Lips That They Must Use In Prayer.