A Good Man's Fortune May

Send Danger From The East Unto The West, So Honor Cross It From The North To South.

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

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

The Object Of Art Is To Give Life A Shape.

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.