We Must Every One Be A Man

Inconstancy Falls Off Ere It Begins.

O World, World! Thus Is The Poor Agent Despised. O Traitors And Bawds, How Earnestly Are You Set A-work, And How Ill Requited! Why Should Our Endeavor Be So Loved, And The Performance So Loathed?

A Glooming Peace This Morning With It Brings; The Sun, For Sorrow, Will Not Show His Head: Go Hence, To Have More Talk Of These Sad Things; Some Shall Be Pardon'd, And Some Punished: For Never Was A Story Of More Woe Than This Of Juliet And Her Romeo.

There Is No Sure Foundation Set On Blood, No Certain Life Achieved By Others' Death.

Absence Doth Sharpen Love, Presence Strengthens It; The One Brings Fuel, The Other Blows It Till It Burns Clear.