Report Me And My Cause Aright.

For What I Will, I Will, And There An End.

Men's Evil Manners Live In Brass; Their Virtues We Write In Water.

The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous Gentleman; And To Be King Stands Not Within The Prospect Of Belief, No More Than To Be Cawdor.

Oh! That You Could Turn Your Eyes Towards The Napes Of Your Necks, And Make But An Interior Survey Of Your Good Selves.

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By