'tis Brief, My Lord...as Woman's Love.

Keep Up Your Bright Swords, For The Dew Will Rust Them.

It Is Held That Valor Is The Chiefest Virtue, And Most Dignifies The Haver.

No Matter Where; Of Comfort No Man Speak: Let's Talk Of Graves, Of Worms, And Epitaphs; Make Dust Our Paper And With Rainy Eyes Write Sorrow On The Bosom Of The Earth

We Are Such Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of.

O Braggart Vile And Damned Furious Wight!