Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

Unless The Old Adage Must Be Verified, That Beggars Mounted, Run Their Horse To Death.

I Am One, Sir, That Comes To Tell You Your Daughter And The Moor Are Now Making The Beast With Two Backs.(iago,acti,scenei)

More Of Your Conversation Would Infect My Brain.

Set We Forward; Let A Roman And A British Ensign Wave Friendly Together. So Through Lud's Town March, And In The Temple Of The Great Jupiter Our Peace We'll Ratify, Seal It With Feasts. Set On There! Never Was A War Did Cease, Ere Bloody Hands Were Washed, With Such A Peace.

I’ll Look To Like, If Looking Liking Move; But No More Deep Will I Endart Mine Eye Than Your Consent Gives Strength To Make It Fly.