For There's No Motion That Tends To

Poor And Content Is Rich, And Rich Enough.

... The Spring, The Summer, The Chilling Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries; And The Mazed World By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

Some Kinds Of Baseness Are Nobly Undergone.

Would I Were Dead, If God's Good Will Were So, For What Is In This World But Grief And Woe?

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love ............ The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes