The One I Love Is The Son

O, I Do Not Like That Paying Back, 'tis A Double Labor.

I Almost Die For Food, And Let Me Have It!

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Merely Players: They Have Their Exits And Their Entrances; And One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts, His Acts Being Seven Ages.

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.