I Have Supped Full With Horrors.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.

Against Ill Chances Men Are Ever Merry, But Heaviness Foreruns The Good Event.

All The World's A Stage.

I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

I Am That Merry Wanderer Of The Night.