Such Thanks As Fits A King's Remembrance.

Romeo: Courage, Man; The Hurt Cannot Be Much. Mercutio: No, 'tis Not So Deep As A Well, Nor So Wide As A Church-door; But 'tis Enough, 'twill Serve. Ask For Me Tomorrow, And You Shall Find Me A Grave Man.

Roses Have Thorns, And Silver Fountains Mud; Clouds And Eclipses Stain Both Moon And Sun, And Loathsome Canker Lies In Sweetest Bud. All Men Make Faults.

Pleasure And Action Make The Hours Seem Short.

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.