Let Those That Play Your Clowns Speak

All's Well That Ends Well; Still The Fine's The Crown. Whate'er The Course, The End Is The Renown.

Nature Does Require Her Time Of Preservation, Which Perforce, I Her Frail Son Amongst My Brethren Mortal, Must Give My Attendance To.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Desperate Times Breed Desperate Measures

Tis A Cruelty To Load A Fallen Man.