The Dullness Of The Fool Is The

Time, Whose Millioned Accidents Creep In Betwixt Vows, And Change Decrees Of Kings, Tan Sacred Beauty, Blunt The Sharpest Intents, Divert Strong Minds To The Course Of Altering Things.

Better A Witty Fool Than A Foolish Wit.

I Pray You Bear Me Henceforth From The Noise And Rumour Of The Field, Where I May Think The Remnant Of My Thoughts In Peace, And Part Of This Body And My Soul With Contemplation And Devout Desires.

This World Is Not For Aye, Nor 'tis Not Strange That Even Our Loves Should With Our Fortunes Change, For 'tis A Question Left Us Yet To Prove, Whether Love Lead Fortune, Or Else Fortune Love.

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.