The Hand That Hath Made You Fair

Bid Me Discourse, I Will Enchant Thine Ear

Is This A Dagger Which I See Before Me, The Handle Toward My Hand?

Sufferance Is The Badge Of All Our Tribe.

To Stand Against The Deep Dread-bolted Thunder, In The Most Terrible And Nimble Stroke Of Quick, Cross Lightning.

O Love, Be Moderate, Allay Thy Ecstasy, In Measure Rain Thy Joy, Scant This Excess!