Praise Us As We Are Tasted, Allow

To Some Kind Of Men Their Graces Serve Them But As Enemies.

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

There Are More Things In Heaven And Earth, Horatio, Than Are Dreamt Of In Your Philosophy.

There's An Old Saying That Applies To Me: You Can't Lose A Game If You Don't Play The Game. (act 1, Scene 4)

Lend Less Than You Owe.