Praise Us As We Are

And Where Two Raging Fires Meet Together, They Do Consume The Thing That Feeds Their Fury.

Go, Bid The Soldiers Shoot.

How Many Cowards Whose Hearts Are All As False As Stairs Of Sand, Wear Yet Upon Their Chins The Beards Of Hercules And Frowning Mars, Who Inward Searched, Have Livers White As Milk!

This Making Of Christians Will Raise The Price Of Hogs.

Self-love, My Liege, Is Not So Vile A Sin, As Self-neglecting.