Things Done Well And With A Care,

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine, In This I Bury All Unkindness.

Sweet Beatrice, Wouldst Thou Come When I Called Thee? Beatrice Yea, Signior, And Depart When You Bid Me. Benedick O, Stay But Till Then! Beatrice 'then' Is Spoken; Fare You Well Now... (much Ado About Nothing)

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue, Nor Any Unproportioned Thought His Act. Be Thou Familiar But By No Means Vulgar.

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

When Law Can Do No Right, Let It Be Lawful That Law Bar No Wrong.