Ships Are But Boards, Sailors But Men.

So Shaken As We Are, So Wan With Care, Find We A Time For Frighted Peace To Pant And Breathe Short-winded Accents Of New Broils To Be Commenced In Stronds Afar Remote.

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

My Heart Is Ever At Your Service.

I Will Keep Where There Is Wit Stirring, And Leave The Faction Of Fools.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run.