O Fortune, Fortune! All Men Call Thee

For Many Men That Stumble At The Threshold Are Well Foretold That Danger Lurks Within.

O, It Is Excellent To Have A Giant's Strength; But It Is Tyrannous To Use It Like A Giant.

Neither My Place, Nor Aught I Heard Of Business, Hath Raised Me From My Bed; Nor Doth The General Care Take Hold On Me; For My Particular Grief Is Of So Floodgate And O'erbearing Nature That It Engluts And Swallows Other Sorrows, And It Is Still Itself.

Keep Up Your Bright Swords, For The Dew Will Rust Them.

Great Men May Jest With Saints; 'tis Wit In Them; But, In The Less Foul Profanation.