Omittance Is No Quittance.

For Youth No Less Becomes The Light And Careless Livery That It Wears, Than Settled Age His Sables, And His Weeds Importing Health And Graveness.

Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination, That, If It Would But Apprehend Some Joy, It Comprehends Some Bringer Of That Joy; Or In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!

Vengeance Is In My Heart, Death In My Hand,blood And Revenge Are Hammering In My Head.

No, Cassius; For The Eye Sees Not Itself, But By Reflection, By Some Other Things.

Can One Desire Too Much Of A Good Thing?