That In The Captains But A Choleric

Where Is Your Ancient Courage? You Were Used To Say Extremities Was The Trier Of Spirits; That Common Chances Common Men Could Bear; That When The Sea Was Calm All Boats Alike Showed Mastership In Floating.

My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

Give Every Man Thine Ear, But Few Thy Voice; Take Each Man's Censure, But Reserve Thy Judgment.

Your Gentleness Shall Force More Than Your Force Move Us To Gentleness.