Greatness Knows Itself.

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.

The Heavenly-harness'd Team Begins His Golden Progress In The East.

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

Verily, I Swear, It Is Better To Be Lowly Born, And Range With Humble Livers In Content, Than To Be Perked Up In A Glistering Grief, And Wear A Golden Sorrow.

Our Doubts Are Traitors And Make Us Lose The Good We Oft Might Win By Fearing To Attempt.