My Heart Laments That Virtue Cannot Live

As Good Luck Would Have It.

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter! My Lord, If You Will Give Me Leave, I Will Tread This Unbolted Villain Into Mortar, And Daub The Wall Of A Jakes With Him. *all Cheer For Shakespearean Insults*

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.

You Cram These Words Into Mine Ears Against The Stomach Of My Sense.