God Grant Us Patience!

I Shall Show The Cinders Of My Spirits Through The Ashes Of My Chance.

It Is The Witness Still Of Excellency To Put A Strange Face On His Own Perfection.

When The Sun Shines Let Foolish Gnats Make Sport, But Creep In Crannies When He Hides His Beams.

There's Small Choice In Rotten Apples.

I Am One, Sir, That Comes To Tell You Your Daughter And The Moor Are Now Making The Beast With Two Backs.(iago,acti,scenei)