Hate Pollutes The Mind.

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Of Anger Constant Spirit, Not Swerving With The Blood, Garnish'd And Deck'd In Modest Compliment, Not Working With The Eye Without The Ear, And But In Purged Judgement Trusting Neither? Such And So Finely Bolted Didst Thou Seem.

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance. Pray You, Love, Remember.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.

Rightly To Be Great Is Not To Stir Without Great Argument, But Greatly To Find Quarrel In A Straw When Honour's At The Stake.