Within The Book And Volume Of Thy

If Men Could Be Contented To Be What They Are, There Were No Fear In Marriage.

For Now I Stand As One Upon A Rock Environed With A Wilderness Of Sea, Who Marks The Waxing Tide Grow Wave By Wave, Expecting Ever When Some Envious Surge Will In His Brinish Bowels Swallow Him.

The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous Gentleman; And To Be King Stands Not Within The Prospect Of Belief, No More Than To Be Cawdor.

An Two Men Ride Of A Horse, One Must Ride Behind.

I Had Rather Eleven Died Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.