One woe doth tread upon another's heel. So fast they follow.

“I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven”

“He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his intellect is not …”

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”

“This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf..…”