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This Goodly Frame, The Earth, Seems To Me A Sterile Promontory, This Most Excellent Canopy, The Air, Look You, This Brave O'erhanging Firmament, This Majestical Roof Fretted With Golden Fire, Why, It Appears No Other Thing To Me Than A Foul And Pestilent Congregation Of Vapours. What A Piece Of Work Is A Man! How Noble In Reason! How Infinite In Faculty! In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable! In Action How Like An Angel! In Apprehension How Like A God! The Beauty Of The World! The Paragon Of Animals! And Yet, To Me, What Is This Quintessence Of Dust?

-William Shakespeare

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This Goodly Frame, The

William Shakespeare

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This Goodly Frame, The Earth, Seems To Me A Sterile Promontory, This Most Excellent Canopy, The Air, Look You, This Brave O'erhanging Firmament, This Majestical Roof Fretted With Golden Fire, Why, It Appears No Other Thing To Me Than A Foul And Pestilent Congregation Of Vapours. What A Piece Of Work Is A Man! How Noble In Reason! How Infinite In Faculty! In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable! In Action How Like An Angel! In Apprehension How Like A God! The Beauty Of The World! The Paragon Of Animals! And Yet, To Me, What Is This Quintessence Of Dust?

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For I Am Nothing If Not Critical.

If I Can Catch Him Once Upon The Hip, I Will Feed Fat The Ancient Grudge I Bear Him.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

But Since The Affairs Of Men Rests Still Incertain, Let's Reason With The Worst That May Befall.

My Nature Is Subdued To What It Works In, Like The Dyer's Hand.

I Was Born Free As Caesar; So Were You

In Me Thou See'st The Twilight Of Such Day As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By And By Black Night Doth Take Away Death's Second Self, That Seals Up All In Rest. -sonnet 73

I'll Look To Like; If Looking, Liking Move.

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.

O God, I Could Be Bound In A Nutshell, And Count Myself A King Of Infinite Space – Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent Made Glorious Summer By This Sun Of York; And All The Clouds That Lour'd Upon Our House In The Deep Bosom Of The Ocean Buried.

We See Which Way The Stream Of Time Doth Run.

What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not Seen? What Is Joy If Sylvia Be Not By?

Yet Writers Say, As In The Sweetest Bud The Eating Canter Dwells, So Eating Love Inhabits In The Finest Wits Of All.

Grief Hath Two Tongues; And Never Woman Yet Could Rule Them Both Without Ten Women's Wit.

I Am One, My Liege, Whom The Vile Blows And Buffets Of The World Have So Incensed That I Am Reckless What I Do To Spite The World.

Make Passionate My Sense Of Hearing.

They Met So Near With Their Lips That Their Breaths Embraced Together.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.

That England, That Was Wont To Conquer Others, Hath Made A Shameful Conquest Of Itself.

Get Thee A Good Husband, And Use Him As He Uses Thee.

Are You Sure/that We Are Awake? It Seems To Me/that Yet We Sleep, We Dream

And Where The Offense Is, Let The Great Axe Fall.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn.

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Our Revels Now Are Ended. These Our Actors, As I Foretold You, Were All Spirits And Are Melted Into Air, Into Thin Air: And, Like The Baseless Fabric Of This Vision, The Cloud-capp'd Towers, The Gorgeous Palaces, The Solemn Temples, The Great Globe Itself, Yea, All Which It Inherit, Shall Dissolve And, Like This Insubstantial Pageant Faded, Leave Not A Rack Behind. We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On, And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

Friendship's Full Of Dregs.

Though I Look Old, Yet I Am Strong And Lusty; For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood; And Did Not, With Unbashful Forehead, Woo The Means Of Weakness And Debility: Therefore My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

I Do Know When The Blood Burns, How Prodigal The Soul Lends The Tongue Vows.

Farewell The Plumed Troop, And The Big Wars That Make Ambition Virtue! O, Farewell! Farewell The Neighing Steed And The Shrill Trump, The Spirit-stirring Drum, Th' Ear-piercing Fife, The Royal Banner, And All Quality, Pride, Pomp, And Circumstance Of Glorious War!

O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return

The Fewer Men, The Greater Share Of Honor.

I Can Call Spirits From The Vasty Deep.

They Are Sick That Surfeit With Too Much, As They That Starve With Nothing.

Funny Inspirational

But Jealous Souls Will Not Be Answered So, They Are Not Ever Jealous For The Cause, But Jealous For They're Jealous. 'tis A Monster Begot Upon Itself, Born On Itself.

There Is A Time In The Affairs Of Men, Which, Taken At The Flood, Leads On To Fortune.

He Is Dead And Gone, Lady, He Is Dead And Gone; At His Head A Grass-green Turf, At His Heels A Stone.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Though It Make The Unskillful Laugh, Cannot But Make The Judicious Grieve.

It Was A Lover And His Lass, With A Hey, And A Ho, And A Hey Nonino, That O'er The Green Corn-field Did Pass, In The Spring Time, The Only Pretty Ring Time, When Birds Do Sing, Hey Ding A Ding, Ding; Sweet Lovers Love The Spring.

Instead Of Weeping When A Tragedy Occurs In A Songbird's Life, It Sings Away Its Grief. I Believe We Could Well Follow The Pattern Of Our Feathered Friends.

There's No Better Sign Of A Brave Mind Than A Hard Hand.

A Golden Mind Stoops Not To Shows Of Dross.

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.

Being Of No Power To Make His Wishes Good: His Promises Fly So Beyond His State That What He Speaks Is All In Debt; He Owes For Every Word.

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

I Have Lov'd Her Ever Since I Saw Her; And Still I See Her Beautiful

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

I Love You With So Much Of My Heart That None Is Left To Protest.

My Friends Were Poor, But Honest, So's My Love.

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.

When You Fear A Foe, Fear Crushes Your Strength; And This Weakness Gives Strength To Your Opponents.

Shall We Upon The Footing Of Our Land Send Fair-play Orders, And Make Compromise, Insinuation, Parley, And Base Truce, To Arms Invasive?

Every Subject's Duty Is The King's; But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own. Therefore, Should Every Soldier In The Wars Do As Every Sick Man In His Bed, Wash Every Mote Out Of His Conscience; And Dying So, Death Is To Him Advantage; Or Not Dying, The Time Was Blessedly Lost Wherein Such Preparation Was Gained; And In Him That Escapes, It Were No Sin To Think That, Making God So Free An Offer, He Let Him Outlive The Day To See His Greatness And To Teach Others How They Should Prepare.

Fair Thoughts And Happy Hours Attend On You.

By Medicine Life May Be Prolonged, Yet Death Will Seize The Doctor Too.

In Law, What Plea So Tainted And Corrupts, But Being Seasoned With A Gracious Voice Obscures The Show Of Evil.

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

How Now, Wit! Whither Wander You?

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose. An Evil Soul Producing Holy Witness Is Like A Villain With A Smiling Cheek, A Goodly Apple Rotten At The Heart. O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!

Who Is So Firm That Can't Be Seduced?

For He Was Likely, Had He Been Put On, To Have Proved Most Royally.

Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.

Thou Canst Not Speak Of What Thou Dost Not Feel.

Though Patience Be A Tired Mare, Yet She Will Plod.

Bad Is The Trade That Must Play Fool To Sorrow, Ang'ring Itself And Others.

There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will.

Denmark In Hamlet

Hamlet And Ophelia

Love Will Not Be Spurred To What It Loathes

Though I Am Not Naturally Honest, I Am Sometimes So By Chance.

In Brief, Sir, Study What You Most Affect.

A Good Sherris-sack Hath A Twofold Operation In It. It Ascends Me Into The Brain,... Makes It Apprehensive, Quick, Forgetive, Full Of Nimble, Fiery, And Delectable Shapes.

Here Comes A Man Of Comfort, Whose Advice Hath Often Stilled My Brawling Discontent.

Set Your Heart At Rest. The Fairyland Buys Not The Child Of Me.

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

How Many Fond Fools Serve Mad Jealousy!

What Else May Hap, To Time I Will Commit.

The Dear Father Would With His Daughter Speak, Commands Her Service; Are They Inform'd Of This?

Make The Doors Upon A Woman's Wit, And It Will Out At The Casement; Shut That, And 'twill Out At The Key-hole; Stop That, 'twill Fly With The Smoke Out At The Chimney.

O Villains, Vipers, Dogs, Easily Won To Fawn On Any Man!

O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict Me!

They Whose Guilt Within Their Bosom Lies, Imagine Every Eye Beholds Their Blame.

I Profess Not Talking: Only This, Let Each Man Do His Best.

How Low Am I, Thou Painted Maypole?

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.

England Is Safe, If True Within Itself.

Of All The Fair Resort Of Gentlemen That Every Day With Parle Encounter Me, In Thy Opinion Which Is Worthiest Love?

Ingratitude Is Monstrous.

Inspirational Christmas

Such Antics Do Not Amount To A Man.

You Must Confine Yourself Within The Modest Limits Of Order.

There Is Thy Gold, Worse Poison To Men's Souls, Doing More Murder In This Loathsome World, Than These Poor Compounds That Thou Mayst Not Sell.

Too Nice, And Yet Too True!

Time's Glory Is To Command Contending Kings, To Unmask Falsehood, And Bring Truth To Light.

One Sees More Devils Than Vast Hell Can Hold

The Eye Sees All, But The Mind Shows Us What We Want To See.

Hear My Soul Speak. Of The Very Instant That I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly At Your Service

Well, God's Above All; And There Be Souls Must Be Saved, And There Be Souls Must Not Be Saved.

I Do Know Of These That Therefore Only Are Reputed Wise For Saying Nothing.

Beware The Leader Who Bangs The Drums Of War In Order To Whip The Citizenry Into A Patriotic Fervor.

Lady, You Are The Cruel'st She Alive If You Will Lead These Graces To The Grave And Leave The World No Copy.

I Once Did Hold It, As Our Statists Do, A Baseness To Write Fair, And Labour'd Much How To Forget That Learning; But, Sir, Now It Did Me Yeoman's Service.

But I Am Constant As The Northern Star, Of Whose True Fixed And Resting Quality There Is No Fellow In The Firmament.

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

'tis Not To Make Me Jealous To Say My Wife Is Fair, Feeds Well, Loves Company, Is Free Of Speech, Sings, Plays, And Dances Well; Where Virtue Is, These Are More Virtuous.

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives, In Your Weakness, Strength Unto Your Foe, And So Your Follies Fight Against Yourself. Fear, And Be Slain--so Worse Can Come To Fight; And Fight And Die Is Death Destroying Death, Where Fearing Dying Pays Death Servile Breath.

There's No More Faith In Thee Than In A Stewed Prune.

And The More Pity That Great Folk Should Have Count'nance In This World To Drown Or Hang Themselves More Than Their Even-christen.

'tis Brief, My Lord...as Woman's Love.

A Very Ancient And Fish-like Smell.

Now, Infidel, I Have You On The Hip!

Merchant Of Venice

There's Nothing Situate Under Heaven's Eye But Hath His Bond In Earth, In Sea, In Sky. The Beasts, The Fishes, And The Winged Fowls Are Their Males' Subjects And At Their Controls. Man, More Divine, The Master Of All These, Lord Of The Wide World And Wild Wat'ry Seas, Indu'd With Intellectual Sense And Souls, Of More Pre-eminence Than Fish And Fowls, Are Masters To Their Females, And Their Lords; Then Let Your Will Attend On Their Accords.

. . From This Moment The Very Firstlings Of My Heart Shall Be The Firstlings Of My Hand. And Even Now, To Crown My Thoughts With Acts, Be It Thought And Done.

Love Laughs At Locksmiths.

All The World's A Stage.

And Send Him Many Years Of Sunshine Days!

Let Men Say We Be Men Of Good Government, Being Governed, As The Sea Is, By Our Noble And Chaste Mistress The Moon, Under Whose Countenance We Steal.

No, No; 'tis All Men's Office To Speak Patience To Those That Wring Under The Load Of Sorrow, But No Man's Virtue Nor Sufficiency To Be So Moral When He Shall Endure The Like Himself. Therefore Give Me No Counsel: My Griefs Cry Louder Than Advertisement.

Obey Thy Parents, Keep Thy Word Justly; Swear Not; Commit Not With Man's Sworn Spouse; Set Not Thy Sweet Heart On Proud Array. * * * Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Pen From Lenders' Books.

I Wish You All The Joy That You Can Wish.

No, No, No, No! Come, Let's Away To Prison: We Two Alone Will Sing Like Birds I' The Cage: When Thou Dost Ask Me Blessing, I'll Kneel Down, And Ask Of Thee Forgiveness: So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, And Hear Poor Rogues Talk Of Court News; And We'll Talk With Them Too, Who Loses And Who Wins; Who's In, Who's Out; And Take Upon's The Mystery Of Things, As If We Were God's Spies: And We'll Wear Out, In A Wall'd Prison, Packs And Sects Of Great Ones, That Ebb And Flow By The Moon.

Thou Hast No Figures Nor No Fantasies Which Busy Care Draws In The Brains Of Men; Therefore Thou Sleep'st So Sound.

You Dull Ass Will Not Mend His Pace With Beating.

I Kissed Thee Ere I Killed Thee. No Way But This, Killing Myself, To Die Upon A Kiss.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.

Fear No More The Heat O' Th' Sun Nor The Furious Winters' Rages; Thou Thy Worldly Task Hast Done, Home Art Gone, And Ta'en Thy Wages. Golden Lads And Girls All Must, As Chimney-sweepers, Come To Dust.

I Will Speak Daggers To Her, But Use None.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman!

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

What's Done Can't Be Undone.

Methinks A Father Is At The Nuptial Of His Son A Guest That Best Becomes The Table.

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

The Peace Of Heaven Is Theirs That Lift Their Swords, In Such A Just And Charitable War.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd, It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest; It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes: 'tis Mightiest In The Mightiest: It Becomes The Throned Monarch Better Than His Crown; His Sceptre Shows The Force Of Temporal Power, The Attribute To Awe And Majesty, Wherein Doth Sit The Dread And Fear Of Kings; But Mercy Is Above This Sceptred Sway; It Is Enthroned In The Hearts Of Kings, It Is An Attribute To God Himself; And Earthly Power Doth Then Show Likest God's When Mercy Seasons Justice.

Ready To Go But Never To Return.

To Be In Love- Where Scorn Is Bought With Groans, Coy Looks With Heart-sore Sighs, One Fading Moment's Mirth With Twenty Watchful, Weary, Tedious Nights; If Haply Won, Perhaps A Hapless Gain; If Lost, Why Then A Grievous Labour Won; However, But A Folly Bought With Wit, Or Else A Wit By Folly Vanquished.

You'd Be So Lean, That Blast Of January Would Blow You Through And Through. Now, My Fair'st Friend, I Would I Had Some Flowers O' The Spring That Might Become Your Time Of Day.

Scorn, At First, Makes After-love The More.

Every Man Has Business And Desire, Such As It Is.

My Lord, They Say Five Moons Were Seen To-night-- Four Fixed, And The Fifth Did Whirl About The Other Four In Wondrous Motion.

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

I Cannot Speak Your England.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

Exceeds Man's Might: That Dwells With The Gods Above.

If She Be Fair And Wise, Fairness And Wit, The One's For Use, The Other Useth It.

And Oftentimes Excusing Of A Fault Doth Make The Fault The Worse By The Excuse, As Patches Set Upon A Little Breach, Discredit More In Hiding Of The Fault Than Did The Fault Before It Was So Patch'd.

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

It Is Great Sin To Swear Unto A Sin, But Greater Sin To Keep A Sinful Oath.

When We Mean To Build, We First Survey The Plot, Then Draw The Model; And When We See The Figure Of The House, Then Must We Rate The Cost Of The Erection.

As Many Arrows, Loosed Several Ways, Come To One Mark...so Many A Thousand Actions, Once Afoot, End In One Purpose.

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water, Which Never Ceaseth To Enlarge Itself, Till, By Broad Spreading, It Disperse To Naught.

Lives Like A Drunken Sailor On A Mast, Ready With Every Nod To Tumble Down Into The Fatal Bowels Of The Deep.

Still It Cried ‘sleep No More!’ To All The House: ‘glamis Hath Murder’d Sleep, And Therefore Cawdor Shall Sleep No More,—macbeth Shall Sleep No More!

Go Wisely And Slowly. Those Who Rush Stumble And Fall.

I Bear A Charmed Life.

I Despised My Arrival On This Earth And I Despise My Departure; It Is A Tragedy.

I Do I Know Not What, And Fear To Find Mine Eye Too Great A Flatterer For My Mind. Fate, Show Thy Force. Ourselves We Do Not Owe. What Is Decreed Must Be; And Be This So.

Know My Name Is Lost, By Treason's Tooth Bare-gnawn And Canker-bit; Yet Am I Noble As The Adversary I Come To Cope.

Hast Any Philosophy In Thee Shepherd? .• • • • . . . He That Wants Money, Means And Content, Is Without Three Good Friends; That The Property Of Rain Is To Wet And Fire To Burn; That Good Pasture Makes Fat Sheep, And A Great Cause Of The Night Is Lack Of The Sun; That He That Hath Learned No Wit By Nature Nor Art May Complain Of Good Breeding Or Comes Of A Very Dull Kindred.

Words Spoken Can Not Be Recalled So Think Twice Before You Speak.

Death Where Is Thy Sting? Love, Where Is Thy Glory?

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece.

Look, How This Ring Encompasseth Thy Finger, Even So Thy Breast Encloseth My Poor Heart; Wear Both Of Them, For Both Of Them Are Thine.

Tax Not So Bad A Voice To Slander Music Any More Than Once.

There Is No Terror, Cassius, In Your Threats, For I Am Armed So Strong In Honesty That They Pass By Me As The Idle Wind

I Dreamt My Lady Came And Found Me Dead . . . . . . . . . . . . And Breathed Such Life With Kisses In My Lips That I Revived And Was An Emperor.

So Holy Writ In Babes Hath Judgment Shown When Judges Have Been Babes; Great Floods Have Flown From Simple Sources, And Great Seas Have Dried When Miracles Have By The Greatest Been Denied.

We All Are Men, In Our Own Natures Frail, And Capable Of Our Flesh; Few Are Angels.

Pause Awhile, And Let My Counsel Sway You.

Good Wine Needs No Bush.

Upon His Royal Face There Is No Note How Dread An Army Hath Enrounded Him.

The Bitter Clamor Of Two Eager Tongues.

Double, Double, Toil And Trouble; Fire Burn, And Cauldron Bubble!

Did He So Often Lodge In Open Field, In Winter's Cold And Summer's Parching Heat, To Conquer France, His True Inheritance?

Like Patience Gazing On Kings' Graves, And Smiling Extremity Out Of Act.

Thyself And Thy Belongings Are Not Thine Own So Proper, As To Waste Thyself Upon Thy Virtues, They On Thee. Heaven Doth With Us As We With Torches Do, Not Light Them For Themselves; For If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us 't Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not. Spirits Are Not Finely Touch'd But To Fine Issues; Nor Nature Never Lends The Smallest Scruple Of Her Excellence, But, Like A Thrifty Goddess, She Determines Herself The Glory Of A Creditor - Both Thanks And Use.

If It Be You That Stirs These Daughters' Hearts Against Their Father, Fool Me Not So Much To Bear It Tamely; Touch Me With Noble Anger, And Let Not Women's Weapons, Water Drops, Stain My Man's Cheeks.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men; And Being Men, Hearing The Will Of Caesar, It Will Inflame You, It Will Make You Mad.

All Things Are Ready, If Our Mind Be So.

O, My Lord, You Said That Idle Weeds Are Fast In Growth: The Prince My Brother Hath Outgrown Me Far.

Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors

Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For I Wear Not, My Dagger In My Mouth.

Light Vanity, Insatiate Cormorant, Consuming Means, Soon Preys Upon Itself.

Men's Faults Do Seldom To Themselves Appear.

Thus We Play The Fool With The Time And The Spirits Of The Wise Sit In The Clouds And Mock Us.

This Most Excellent Canopy, The Air, Look You, This Brave O-erhanging Firmament, This Majestical Roof Fretted With Golden Fire.

Your Gentleness Shall Force More Than Your Force Move Us To Gentleness.

Things Done Well And With A Care, Exempt Themselves From Fear.

The Will Is Deaf And Hears No Heedful Friends.

That Is Not The Best Sermon Which Makes The Hearers Go Away Talking To One Another And Praising The Speaker, But Which Makes Them Go Away Thoughtful And Serious, And Hastening To Be Alone.

Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray You, Undo This Button.

My Prophecy Is But Half His Journey Yet, For Yonder Walls, That Pertly Front Your Town, Yon Towers, Whose Wanton Tops Do Buss The Clouds, Must Kiss Their Own Feet.

Come, Go With Us, Speak Fair; You May Salve So, Not What Is Dangerous Present, But The Los Of What Is Past.

Let Us, Like Merchants, Show Our Foulest Wares, And Think Perchance They'll Sell; If Not, The Lustre Of The Better Yet To Show Shall Show The Better.

All Lovers Swear More Performance Than They Are Able, And Yet Reserve An Ability That They Never Perform; Vowing More Than The Perfection Of Ten, And Discharging Less Than The Tenth Part Of One.

Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths; The Valiant Never Taste Of Death But Once.

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