Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

Cry Havoc And Let Slip The Dogs Of War!

Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot Be Hid Long.

Four Days Will Quickly Steep Themselves In Nights; Four Nights Will Quickly Dream Away The Time; And Then The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven, Shall Behold The Night Of Our Solemnities.

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

The Cheek Is Apter Than The Tongue To Tell An Errand.