One Man With A Head On His

I Regret The Unhappiness Of Princes Who Are Slaves To Forms And Fettered By Caution.

I Grieve And Dare Not Show My Discontent, I Love And Yet Am Forced To Seem To Hate, I Do, Yet Dare Not Say I Ever Meant, I Seem Stark Mute But Inwardly Do Prate. I Am And Not, I Freeze And Yet Am Burned, Since From Myself Another Self I Turned. My Care Is Like My Shadow In The Sun, Follows Me Flying, Flies When I Pursue It, Stands And Lies By Me, Doth What I Have Done.

The Sea, As Well As The Air, Is A Free And Common Thing To All; And A Particular Nation Cannot Pretend To Have The Right To The Exclusion Of All Others, Without Violating The Rights Of Nature And Public Usage.

We Princes Are Set As It Were Upon Stages, In The Sight And View Of All The World. The Least Spot Is Soon Spied In Our Garments, A Blemish Quickly Noticed In Our Doings.

If I Follow The Inclination Of My Nature, It Is This: Beggar-woman And Single, Far Rather Than Queen And Married.