"And through this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set."
"A sad tale's best for winter: I have one of sprites and goblins"
"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind."
(Exit, pursued by a bear)