If There Is A Good Will, There

Avaunt, You Cullions!

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!

For Conspiracy, I Know Not How It Tastes, Though It Be Dished For Me To Try How.

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.

What Is Honour? A Word. What Is In That Word Honour? What Is That Honour? Air. A Trim Reckoning! Who Hath It? He That Died O' Wednesday. Doth He Feel It? No. Doth He Hear It? No.