Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most exce…”

“Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;Life and these lips have long be…”

“Is this a dagger which I see before me,The handle toward my hand? Come, let me …”

“As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.”