Our Praises Are Our Wages.

Lawless Are They That Make Their Wills Their Law.

And Do As Adversaries Do In Law, Strive Mightily, But Eat And Drink As Friends.

Thus Have I, Wall, My Part Discharged So; And, Being Done, Thus Wall Away Doth Go.

Men At Some Time Are Masters Of Their Fates. The Fault, Dear Brutus, Is Not In Our Stars, But In Ourselves, That We Are Underlings.

By Heaven, My Soul Is Purg'd From Grudging Hate; And With My Hand I Seal My True Heart's Love