Words Writ In Waters.

Who To Himself Is Law No Law Doth Need; Offends None And Is King Indeed.

Each Natural Agent Works But To This End,- To Render That It Works On Like Itself.

Fate's Such A Shrewish Thing.

Give Me A Spirit That On This Life's Rough Sea Loves T'have His Sails Filled With A Lusty Wind, Even Till His Sail-yards Tremble, His Masts Crack, And His Ship Run On Her Side So Low That She Drinks Water, And Her Keel Plows Air.

Let Pride Go Afore, Shame Will Follow After.