The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous

For Honesty Coupled To Beauty, Is To Have Honey A Sauce To Sugar.

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Has No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil....o God, That Men Should Put An Enemy In Their Mouths To Steal Away Their Brains! That We Should, With Joy, Pleasance Revel And Applause, Transform Ourselves Into Beasts!

He Is Dead And Gone, Lady, He Is Dead And Gone; At His Head A Grass-green Turf, At His Heels A Stone.

If I For My Opinion Bleed, Opinion Shall Be Surgeon To My Hurt, And Keep Me On The Side Where Still I Am.

Come Not Within The Measure Of My Wrath.