Men At Some Time Are Masters Of

Sleep Dwell Upon Thine Eyes, Peace In Thy Breast! Would I Were Sleep And Peace, So Sweet To Rest.

To Thine Own Self Be True, And It Must Follow, As The Night The Day, Thou Canst Not Then Be False To Any Man.

Mine Honor Is My Life, Both Grow In One. Take Honor From Me, And My Life Is Done. Then, Dear My Liege, Mine Honor Let Me Try; In That I Live, And For That I Will Die.

If They Love They Know Not Why, They Hate Upon No Better Ground, They Hate Upon No Better A Ground

To Loathe The Taste Of Sweetness, Whereof Little More Than A Little Is By Much Too Much.