Glory Grows Guilty Of Detested Crimes.

What Is Done Cannot Be Now Amended.

What A Piece Of Work Is A Man, How Noble In Reason, How Infinite In Faculties, In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable, In Action How Like An Angel, In Apprehension How Like A God.

He Does Me Double Wrong That Wounds Me With The Flatteries Of His Tongue.

Ingratitude Is Monstrous.

A Great Cause Of The Night Is Lack Of The Sun.