Zounds! Sir, You Are One Of Those

I Have Nothing Of Woman In Me; Now From Head To Foot I Am Marble-constant.

If We Are Mark'd To Die, We Are Enow To Do Our Country Loss; And If To Live, The Fewer Men, The Greater Share Of Honour. God's Will! I Pray Thee; Wish Not One Man More.

Thou Art A Very Ragged Wart.

What Can Be Avoided Whose End Is Purposed By The Mighty Gods?

To Climb Steep Hills Requires A Slow Pace At First.