Pray You Now, Forget And Forgive.

For My Grief's So Great That No Supporter But The Huge Firm Earth Can Hold It Up: Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is My Throne, Bid Kings Come Bow To It. (constance, From King John, Act Iii, Scene 1)

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear

Oh, That Way Madness Lies; Let Me Shun That.

I Love You With So Much Of My Heart That None Is Left To Protest.

What E'er You Are That In This Desert Inaccessible, Under The Shade Of Melancholy Boughs, Lose And Neglect The Creeping Hours Of Time.