Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot

For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire Phrase.

A Violet In The Youth Of Primy Nature, Forward, Not Permanent--sweet, Not Lasting; The Perfume And Suppliance Of A Minute; No More.

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounced It To You-trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines. Nor Do Not Saw The Air Too Much With Your Hand, Thus, But Use All Gently; For In The Very Torrent, Tempest, And As I May Say, The Whirlwind Of Your Passion, You Must Acquire And Beget A Temperance That May Give It Smoothness.

Ignorance Is The Curse Of God; Knowledge Is The Wing Wherewith We Fly To Heaven.