In Maiden Meditation, Fancy Free.

Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot Be Hid Long.

Every Man Has A Bag Hanging Before Him, In Which He Puts His Neighbour's Faults, And Another Behind Him In Which He Stows His Own.

Alas, Sir, How Fell You Besides Your Five Wits?" Malvolio: "fool, There Was Never A Man So Notoriously Abused. I Am As Well In My Wits, Fool, As Thou Art." Feste: "but As Well? Then You Are Mad Indeed, If You Be No Better In You Wits Than A Fool.

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance. Pray You, Love, Remember.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.