All The World Is A Stage And

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

I Cannot Tell What You And Other Men Think Of This Life; But, For My Single Self, I Had As Lief Not Be As Live To Be In Awe Of Such A Thing As I Myself.

Look How The World's Poor People Are Amazed At Apparitions, Signs And Prodigies!

Absence Doth Sharpen Love, Presence Strengthens It; The One Brings Fuel, The Other Blows It Till It Burns Clear.

How Quickly Nature Falls Into Revolt When Gold Becomes Her Object! For This The Foolish Over-careful Fathers Have Broke Their Sleep With Thoughts, Their Brains With Care, Their Bones With Industry.