The Force Of His Own Merit Makes

I'll Be Damned For Never A King's Son In Christendom.

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

It Is In Pardoning That We Are Pardoned.

Foolery, Sir, Does Walk About The Orb Like The Sun; It Shines Everywhere.

Life Is As Tedious As Twice-told Tale, Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man.