To Whom God Will, There Be The

A Plague Of Sighing And Grief! It Blows A Man Up Like A Bladder.

O, My Lord, You Said That Idle Weeds Are Fast In Growth: The Prince My Brother Hath Outgrown Me Far.

In God's Name Cheerly On, Courageous Friends, To Reap The Harvest Of Perpetual Peace By This One Bloody Trial Of Sharp War.

O God, That Men Should Put An Enemy In Their Mouths To Steal Away Their Brains!" - Cassio (act Ii, Scene Iii)

Fie, Fie Upon Her! There's Language In Her Eye, Her Cheek, Her Lip, Nay, Her Foot Speaks; Her Wanton Spirits Look Out At Every Joint And Motive Of Her Body.