Are There No Stones In Heaven But

There Is A Devilish Mercy In The Judge, If You'll Implore It, That Will Free Your Life, But Fetter You Till Death.

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

I Will Make Thee Think Thy Swan A Crow.

For My Grief's So Great That No Supporter But The Huge Firm Earth Can Hold It Up: Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is My Throne, Bid Kings Come Bow To It. (constance, From King John, Act Iii, Scene 1)

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.