Your Face Is A Book, Where Men

Not A Whit, We Defy Augury: There's A Special Providence In The Fall Of A Sparrow. If It Be Now, 'tis Not To Come; If It Be Not To Come, It Will Be Now; If It Be Not Now, Yet It Will Come: The Readiness Is All.

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.

O Fortune, Fortune! All Men Call Thee Fickle.

Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!

Gloucester, We Have Done Deeds Of Charity, Made Peace Of Enmity, Fair Love Of Hate, Between These Swelling Wrong-incensed Peers.