Give Me A Bowl Of Wine, In

The Hand Of Little Employment Hath The Daintier Sense.

Ay, In The Catalogue Ye Go For Men; As Hounds, And Greyhounds, Mongrels, Spaniels, Curs, Shoughs, Water-rugs, And Demi-wolves, Are 'clept All By The Name Of Dogs: The Valued File Distinguishes The Swift, The Slow, The Subtle, The Housekeeper, The Hunter, Every One According To The Gift Which Bounteous Nature Hath In Him Closed.

There Is No Terror, Cassius, In Your Threats, For I Am Armed So Strong In Honesty That They Pass By Me As The Idle Wind

These Signs Have Marked Me Extraordinary, And All The Courses Of My Life Do Show I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

Are You Up To Your Destiny?