I Will Keep Where There Is Wit

Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

Most Subject Is The Fattest Soil To Weeds.

Romeo To Balthasar But If Thou, Jealous, Dost Return To Pry In What I Further Shall Intend To Do, By Heaven, I Will Tear Thee Joint By Joint And Strew This Hungry Churchyard With Thy Limbs: The Time And My Intents Are Savage-wild, More Fierce And More Inexorable Far Than Empty Tigers Or The Roaring Sea.

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

Anger's My Meat. I Sup Upon Myself, And So Shall Starve With Feeding.