My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; my soul the father: and these two beget a generation of still-breeding thoughts, and these same thoughts people this little world.

Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.

Turn hell-hound, turn.

For thy sweet love remembr'd such wealth bringsThat then, I scorn to change my state with kings.

Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.

Whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin I see hath been his timeless end. Oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. I will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm.Yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. There rust and let me die.