She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs.

Evermore Thanks, The Exchequer Of The Poor

What's Done Cannot Be Undone. To Bed, To Bed, To Bed.

No, By My Soul, I Never In My Life Did Hear A Challenge Urged More Modestly, Unless A Brother Should A Brother Dare To Gentle Exercise And Proof Of Arms.

My Liege, And Madam, To Expostulate What Majesty Should Be, What Duty Is, Why Day Is Day, Night Night, And Time Is Time, Were Nothing But To Waste Night, Day And Time. Therefore, Since Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

A Fool, A Fool! I Met A Fool I' Th' Forest, A Motley Fool! A Miserable World! As I Do Live By Food, I Met A Fool Who Laid Him Down And Basked Him In The Sun And Railed On Lady Fortune In Good Terms, In Good Set Terms, And Yet A Motley Fool.