Make Not Your Thoughts Your

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

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

Many A Man's Tongue Shakes Out His Master's Undoing.

Men At Some Time Are Masters Of Their Fates. The Fault, Dear Brutus, Is Not In Our Stars, But In Ourselves, That We Are Underlings.

Could Beauty, My Lord, Have Better Commerce Than With Honesty?