This Above All; To Thine Own Self

'tis Dangerous To Take A Cold, To Sleep, To Drink; But I Tell You, My Lord Fool, Out Of This Nettle, Danger, We Pluck This Flower, Safety.

Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn.

Upon Thy Cheek I Lay This Zealous Kiss, As Seal To The Indenture Of My Love.

Yet Who Would Have Thought The Old Man To Have Had So Much Blood In Him? - Lady Macbeth

If It Be Honor In Your Wars To Seem The Same You Are Not,--which, For Your Best Ends, You Adopt Your Policy--how Is It Less Or Worse, That It Shall Hold Companionship In Peace With Honour, As In War: Since That To Both It Stands In Like Request?