I Do Desire We May Be Better

Therefore Was I Created With A Stubborn Outside, With An Aspect Of Iron, That When I Come To Woo Ladies, I Fright Them. But, In Faith, Kate, The Elder I Wax, The Better I Shall Appear. My Comfort Is That Old Age, That Ill Layer-up Of Beauty, Can Do No More Spoil Upon My Face. Thou Hast Me, If Thou Hast Me, At The Worst, And Thou Shalt Wear Me, If Thou Wear Me, Better And Better.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

One Woman Is Fair, Yet I Am Well; Another Is Wise, Yet I Am Well; Another Virtuous, Yet I Am Well; But Till All Graces Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace.

Indeed, Sir, He That Sleeps Feels Not The Toothache; But A Man That Were To Sleep Your Sleep, And A Hangman To Help Him To Bed, I Think He Would Change Places With His Officer; For Look You, Sir, You Know Not Which Way You Shall Go.

The End Crowns All, And That Old Common Arbitrator, Time, Will One Day End It.