“That is the lightest coffin I have ever carried," observed one of Romeo's companions. "Your [bell]ringer must have been a very slender man, Friar Lorenzo. Make sure to choose a fat one next time that he may stand more firmly in that windy bell tower.”

“I have stretched ropes from bell-tower to bell-tower; garlands from window to window; chains of gold from star to star, and I dance.”

“In fact, I shall drink several, and perchance the wine will send me straight to Paradise that I may meet her in person and …” Friar Lorenzo sprung forward and hissed, for no apparent reason, “Before it throws you from grace, Messer Romeo, bridle your tongue!” The young man grinned, “… pay my respects.”

“Careful!” warned Friar Lorenzo, trying to close the lid. “You know not what infection those lips carry!”

“My wife was on a visit to her aunt's, and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker Street.'Why,' said I, glancing up at my companion, 'that was surely the bell? Who could come tonight? Some friend of yours, perhaps?''Except yourself I have none,' he answered. 'I do not encourage visitors.”

“All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated... As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all... No man is an island, entire of itself... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”