Or Are You Like The Painting Of

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

Let Us Our Lives, Our Souls, Our Debts, Our Careful Wives, Our Children, And Our Sins, Lay On The King!

We Make Trifles Of Terrors, Ensconcing Ourselves Into Seeming Knowledge, When We Should Submit Ourselves To An Unknown Fear.

Men Should Be What They Seem.