Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, thy dial how thy precious minutes waste

“O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die”

“Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?”

“A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!”

“I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some s…”