Indeed There's A Woundy Luck In Names.

It Strikes! One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six. Enough, Enough, Dear Watch, Thy Pulse Hath Beat Enough. Now Sleep And Rest; Would Thou Could'st Make The Time To Do So Too; I'll Wind Thee Up No More.

A Good Man Should And Must Sit Rather Down With Loss Than Rise Unjust.

Soul Of The Age! The Applause! Delight! The Wonder Of Our Stage!

I Glory, More In The Cunning Purchase Of My Wealth Than In The Glad Possession.

All Concord's Born Of Contraries.