Take Pains. Be Perfect.

She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs: If Her Breath Were As Terrible As Her Terminations, There Were No Living Near Her; She Would Infect To The North Star. I Would Not Marry Her, Though She Were Endowed With All That Adam Bad Left Him Before He Transgressed.

I Will Be Free, Even To The Uttermost, As I Please, In Words.

If After Every Tempest Come Such Calms, May The Winds Blow Till They Have Waken'd Death!

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

We, Ignorant Of Ourselves, Beg Often Our Own Harms, Which The Wise Powers Deny Us For Our Good; So Find We Profit By Losing Of Our Prayers.