You Blocks, You Stones, You Worse Than

A Fool's Bolt Is Soon Shot.

O All You Host Of Heaven! O Earth! What Else? And Shall I Couple Hell?

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men, Which Taken At The Flood, Leads On To Fortune. Omitted, All The Voyage Of Their Life Is Bound In Shallows And In Miseries. On Such A Full Sea Are We Now Afloat. And We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

Bloody Instructions, Which, Being Taught, Return To Plague The Inventor.

If We Shadows Have Offended, Think But This, And All Is Mended, That You Have But Slumber'd Here While These Visions Did Appear.