Honest Plain Words Best Pierce The Ear

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

Let's Take The Instant By The Forward Top; For We Are Old, And On Our Quick'st Decrees The Inaudible And Noiseless Foot Of Time Steals Ere We Can Effect Them.

Chewing The Food Of Sweet And Bitter Fancy.

For Brutus Is An Honourable Man; So Are They All, All Honourable Men.

The Dullness Of The Fool Is The Whetstone Of The Wits.