Lawless Are They That Make Their Wills

You Are Not Worth The Dust Which The Rude Wind Blows In Your Face.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Pride Went Before, Ambition Follows Him.

If There Be Devils, Would I Were A Devil, To Live And Burn In Everlasting Fire, So I Might Have Your Company In Hell, But To Torment You With My Bitter Tongue!

O, What A World Of Vile Ill-favored Faults, Looks Handsome In Three Hundred Pounds A Year!