I Bear A Charmed Life, Which Must

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

Yet Who Would Have Thought The Old Man To Have Had So Much Blood In Him? - Lady Macbeth

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

She Says I Am Not Fair, That I Lack Manners; She Calls Me Proud, And That She Could Not Love Me, Were Man As Rare As Phoenix.

There Is Flattery In Friendship.