Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's

Let Those That Play Your Clowns Speak No More Than Is Set Down For Them.

Yet Writers Say, As In The Sweetest Bud The Eating Canter Dwells, So Eating Love Inhabits In The Finest Wits Of All.

She Dreams Of Him That Has Forgot Her Love; You Dote On Her That Cares Not For Your Love. 'tis Pity Love Should Be So Contrary; And Thinking Of It Makes Me Cry 'alas!

How Poor Are They That Have Have Not Patients.

Don't Trust The Person Who Has Broken Faith Once.