Mercy But Murders, Pardoning Those That Kill.

Out Of This Nettle - Danger - We Pluck This Flower - Safety.

This Cold Night Will Turn Us All To Fools And Madmen.

Gloucester: Yet So Much Is My Poverty Of Spirit, So Mighty And So Many My Defects, As I Had Rather Hide Me From My Greatness, Being A Bark To Brook No Mighty Sea, Than In My Greatness Covet To Be Hid, And In The Vapour Of My Glory Smother'd. But God Be Thanked. . . .

A Young Man Married Is A Man That's Marred.

Let's Take The Instant By The Forward Top; For We Are Old, And On Our Quick'st Decrees The Inaudible And Noiseless Foot Of Time Steals Ere We Can Effect Them.