O, Had I But Followed The Arts!

All Pride Is Willing Pride.

The Color Of The King Doth Come And Go, Between His Purpose And His Conscience, Like Heralds 'twixt Two Dreadful Battles Set: His Passion Is So Ripe, It Needs Must Break.

One Pain Is Cured By Another. Catch Some New Infection In Your Eye And The Poison Of The Old One Would Die.

Sweet Are The Uses Of Adversity Which, Like The Toad, Ugly And Venomous, Wears Yet A Precious Jewel In His Head.

O War! Thou Son Of Hell!