And Nature Must Obey Necessity.

No Visor Does Become Black Villainy So Well As Soft And Tender Flattery.

What Power Is It Which Mounts My Love So High, That Makes Me See, And Cannot Feed Mine Eye

Nature Hath Framed Strange Fellows In Her Time.

How Poor Are They That Have Not Patience! What Wound Did Ever Heal But By Degrees?

When I Bestride Him, I Soar, I Am A Hawk: He Trots The Air; The Earth Sings When He Touches It; The Basest Horn Of His Hoof Is More Musical Than The Pipe Of Hermes.