Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance: they are but beggars who can count their worth. Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once. If thou remember'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved. Daffodils that come before the swallow dares, and takes the winds of March with beauty. But screw your courage to the sticking-place and we'll not fail. One may smile, and smile, and be a villain. I have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep. Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. Nothing can come of nothing. | 
