We Are Such Stuff That Dreams Are

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

I Always Thought It Was Both Impious And Unnatural That Such Immanity And Bloody Strife Should Reign Among Professors Of One Faith.

Then With The Losers Let It Sympathize, For Nothing Can Seem Foul To Those That Win.

The Southern Wind Doth Play The Trumpet To His Purposes; And, By His Hollow Whistling In The Leaves, Foretells A Tempest And A Blustering Day.

When Thou Cam'st First, Thou Strok'st Me And Made Much Of Me; Wouldst Give Me Water With Berries In't; And Teach Me How To Name The Bigger Light, And How The Less, That Burn By Day And Night; And Then I Loved Thee And Showed Thee All The Qualities O' Th' Isle, The Fresh Springs, Brine-pits, Barren Place And Fertile.