— Don't do that.
— Do what?
— The look.
— You're doing the look again.
— Well, I can't see it, can I? It's my face.
— Yes and you're doing a "We both know what's really going on here" face.
— We do.
— No, I don't, which is why I find the face so annoying.
Thy bosom is endeard with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have supposd dead,
And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
And all those friends which I thought burid.
Their images I loved I view in thee,
And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.