When We Are Born We Cry That

Let Them Obey That Knows Not How To Rule.

I Am Indeed Not Her Fool, But Her Corrupter Of Words. (act Iii, Sc. I, 37-38)

When I Bestride Him, I Soar, I Am A Hawk: He Trots The Air; The Earth Sings When He Touches It; The Basest Horn Of His Hoof Is More Musical Than The Pipe Of Hermes.

Mercy But Murders, Pardoning Those That Kill.

If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It Will Feed My Revenge.