There Is Throats To Be Cut, And

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Hast No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil.

There Is No More Mercy In Him Than There Is Milk In A Male Tiger.

The Rest, Is Silence.

It Is Great Sin To Swear Unto A Sin, But Greater Sin To Keep A Sinful Oath.