We Are Such Stuff That Dreams Are

And Yet, By Heaven, I Think My Love As Rare As Any She Belied With False Compare.

O, I Have Suffered With Those That I Saw Suffer! A Brave Vessel (who Had No Doubt Some Noble Creature In Her) Dashed All To Pieces! O, The Cry Did Knock Against My Very Heart! Poor Souls, They Perished!

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury; Signifying Nothing.

Perseverance, My Dear Lord. Keeps Honour Bright.