Look, What A Horse Should Have He

The Art Of Our Necessities Is Strange That Can Make Vile Things Precious.

My Glass Shall Not Persuade Me I Am Old, So Long As Youth And Thou Are Of One Date; But When In Thee Time's Furrows I Behold, Then Look I Death My Days Should Expiate.

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water, Which Never Ceaseth To Enlarge Itself, Till, By Broad Spreading, It Disperse To Naught.

We Know What We Are, But Know Not What We May Be.

Let Every Man Be Master Of His Time.