When Law Can Do No Right, Let

For By His Face Straight Shall You Know His Heart.

Adieu, Adieu, Adieu! Remember Me.

All Pride Is Willing Pride.

I Am Not Merry, But I Do Beguile The Thing I Am By Seeming Otherwise.

To-morrow, And To-morrow, And To-morrow, Creeps In This Petty Pace From Day To Day, To The Last Syllable Of Recorded Time; And All Our Yesterdays Have Lighted Fools The Way To Dusty Death. Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More. It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.