Ambition, The Soldier's Virtue, Rather Makes Choice

I Am Not Prone To Weeping As Our Sex Commonly Are; The Want Of Which Vain Dew Perchance Shall Dry Your Pities; But I Have That Honorable Grief Lodged Here Which Burns Worse Than Tears Drown.

Still It Cried ‘sleep No More!’ To All The House: ‘glamis Hath Murder’d Sleep, And Therefore Cawdor Shall Sleep No More,—macbeth Shall Sleep No More!

Cowards Die Many Times; A Brave Man Dies But Once.

Join Not With Grief, Fair Woman, Do Not So, To Make My End Too Sudden.

Heaven - The Treasury Of Everlasting Life.