Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping

Sleep Knits Up The Raveled Sleeve Of Care.

Base Men Being In Love Have Then A Nobility In Their Natures More Than Is Native To Them.

The Latter End Of A Fray, And The Beginning Of A Feast, Fits A Dull Fighter, And A Keen Guest.

I Beseech You, Wrest Once The Law To Your Authority: To Do A Great Right, Do A Little Wrong.

I See A Woman May Be Made A Fool, If She Had Not A Spirit To Resist.