Tis In Ourselves That We

But Thou, Contracted To Thine Own Bright Eyes, Feed'st Thy Light's Flame With Self-substantial Fuel, Making A Famine Where Abundance Lies, Thyself Thy Foe, To Thy Sweet Self Too Cruel.

Men At Sometime Are The Masters Of Their Fate.

Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of The Wise.

What Man Art Thou That, Thus Bescreened In Night, So Stumblest On My Counsel? *who Are You? Why Do You Hide In The Darkness And Listen To My Private Thoughts?*

Macduff: What Three Things Does Drink Especially Provoke? Porter: Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleep, And Urine.