Beauty Lives With Kindness.

O All You Host Of Heaven! O Earth! What Else? And Shall I Couple Hell?

Romeo: I Dreamt A Dream Tonight. Mercutio: And So Did I. Romeo: Well, What Was Yours? Mercutio: That Dreamers Often Lie. Romeo: In Bed Asleep While They Do Dream Things True.

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

If It Be True That Good Wine Needs No Bush, 'tis True That A Good Play Needs No Epilogue.

There Is A Willow Grows Aslant A Brook, That Shows His Hoar Leaves In The Glassy Stream; There With Fantastic Garlands Did She Come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, And Long Purples That Liberal Shepherds Give A Grosser Name, But Our Cold Maids Do Dead Men's Fingers Call Them: There, On The Pendent Boughs Her Coronet Weeds Clambering To Hang, An Envious Sliver Broke; When Down Her Weedy Trophies And Herself Fell In The Weeping Brook.