When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay

Remembrance Of Things Past.

To Some Kind Of Men Their Graces Serve Them But As Enemies.

There's Some Ill Planet Reigns: I Must Be Patient Till The Heavens Look With An Aspect More Favourable.

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

Frame Your Mind To Mirth And Merriment Which Bars A Thousand Harms And Lengthens Life.