Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the tailor make thy garments of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is opal.
Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
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