There Is No More Mercy In Him

To Lapse In Fulness Is Sorer Than To Lie For Need, And Falsehood Is Worse In Kings Than Beggars.

I Shall Despair. There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die No Soul Will Pity Me: And Wherefore Should They, Since That I Myself Find In Myself No Pity To Myself?

You Have Lost No Reputation At All, Unless You Repute Yourself Such A Loser.

I Stalk About Her Door, Like A Strange Soul Upon The Stygian Banks Staying For Waftage.

An Honest Man, Sir, Is Able To Speak For Himself, When A Knave Is Not.