He Is The Most Wretched Of Men

Alas, Their Love May Be Call'd Appetite. No Motion Of The Liver, But The Palate

These Times Of Woe Afford No Time To Woo.

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

Let Each Man Do His Best.

Titus Andronicus, My Lord The Emperor Sends Thee This Word, That, If Thou Love Thy Sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, Or Thyself, Old Titus, Or Any One Of You, Chop Off Your Hand And Send It To The King: He For The Same Will Send Thee Hither Both Thy Sons Alive, And That Shall Be The Ransom For Their Fault.