Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’
The Bard of Avon was right: One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
Okay people, the wind is Southerly. Am I a hawk or a handsaw?
What can I tell you, beauty is bought by judgement of the eye, and here is beauty so judge away.
Yeah, I know all the world’s a stage, but remind me is this stage right or stage left for my exit?
Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it. That’s what I always say.
Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou? I’m right behind you Julie.
The Bard of Avon was right, My soul is in the sky!
‘A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!‘ Hey, flying gets tiring, you know.
You may call me a Moorhen but I prefer to be called Othello.