Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For

I'll Privily Away; I Love The People, But Do Not Like To Stage Me To Their Eyes; Though It Do Well, I Do Not Relish Well Their Loud Applause And Aves Vehement, Nor Do I Think The Man Of Safe Discretion That Does Not Affect It.

You Shall More Command With Years Than With Your Weapons.

Is Not Birth, Beauty, Good Shape, Discourse, Manhood, Learning, Gentleness, Virtue, Youth, Liberality, And Such Like, The Spice And Salt That Season A Man

I Care Not, A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God And Death.

My Father Names Me Autolycus, Who Being, As I Am, Littered Under Mercury, Was Likewise A Snapper-up Of Unconsidered Trifles.