Some Are Born Great, Some

I Am Such A Tender Ass, If My Hair Do But Tickle Me, I Must Scratch.

Love's Not Love When It Is Mingled With Regards That Stand Aloof From Th' Entire Point.

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

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!

Happy Thou Art Not; For What Thou Hast Not, Still Thou Strivest To Get; And What Thou Hast, Forgettest.