Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind,

We Few. We Happy Few. We Band Of Brothers, For He Today That Sheds His Blood With Me Shall Be My Brother.

Fair Is Foul, And Foul Is Fair, Hover Through Fog And Filthy Air.

I'll Privily Away; I Love The People, But Do Not Like To Stage Me To Their Eyes; Though It Do Well, I Do Not Relish Well Their Loud Applause And Aves Vehement, Nor Do I Think The Man Of Safe Discretion That Does Not Affect It.

Where I Could Not Be Honest, I Never Yet Was Valiant.

All Lovers Swear More Performance Than They Are Able, And Yet Reserve An Ability That They Never Perform; Vowing More Than The Perfection Of Ten, And Discharging Less Than The Tenth Part Of One.