A Good Old Man, Sir.

One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning, One Pain Is Lessen'd By Another's Anguish.

An Two Men Ride Of A Horse, One Must Ride Behind.

What Should A Man Do But Be Merry? For Look You How Cheerfully My Mother Looks, And My Father Died Within's Two Hours.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Why Then, O Brawling Love! O Loving Hate! O Any Thing, Of Nothing First Create! O Heavy Lightness, Serious Vanity, Misshapen Chaos Of Well-seeming Forms, Feather Of Lead, Bright Smoke, Cold Fire, Sick Health, Still-waking Sleep, That Is Not What It Is! This Love Feel I, That Feel No Love In This.