Men That Hazard All Do It In

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

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.

Sweets To The Sweet.

Is This Government Of Britain's Isle, And This The Royalty Of Albion's King?