Fortune Is Merry, And In This Mood

What, Shall One Of Us, That Struck For The Foremost Man Of All This World But For Supporting Robbers--shall We Now Contaminate Our Fingers With Base Bribes, And Sell The Mighty Space Of Our Large Honors For So Much Trash As May Be Grasped Thus?

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

You Are Made Rather To Wonder At The Things You Hear Than To Work Any.

A Maiden Hath No Tongue--but Thought.

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.