I Can No Longer Live By Thinking.

We Must Every One Be A Man Of His Own Fancy.

Some Glory In Their Birth , Some In Their Skill , Some In Their Wealth , Some In Their Bodies' Force , Some In Their Garments, Though New-fangled Ill; Some In Their Hawks And Hounds , Some In Their Horse ; And Every Humor Hath His Adjunct Pleasure , Wherein It Finds A Joy Above The Rest .

I Would Challenge You To A Battle Of Wits, But I See You Are Unarmed!

Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

Nothing In His Life Became Him Like Leaving It.