Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

Then Know, That I Have Little Wealth To Lose. A Man I Am, Crossed With Adversity; My Riches Are These Poor Habiliments, Of Which If You Should Here Disfurnish Me, You Take The Sum And Substance That I Have.

Love Comforteth Like Sunshine After Rain, But Lust's Effect Is Tempest After Sun; Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain, Lust's Winter Comes Ere Summer Half Be Done; Love Surfeits Not, Lust Like A Glutton Dies; Love Is All Truth, Lust Full Of Forged Lies.

We Are Such Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of.

To Lapse In Fulness Is Sorer Than To Lie For Need, And Falsehood Is Worse In Kings Than Beggars.

Honor's Thought Reigns Solely In The Breast Of Every Man.