What Are Kings, When Regiment Is Gone,

You Stars That Reigned At My Nativity, Whose Influence Hath Allotted Death And Hell.

I Am Envy, Begotten Of A Chimney-sweeper And An Oyster-wife. I Cannot Read, And Therefore Wish All Books Were Burnt; I Am Lean With Seeing Others Eat - O That There Would Come A Famine Through All The World, That All Might Die, And I Live Alone; Then Thou Should'st See How Fat I Would Be! But Must Thou Sit And I Stand? Come Down, With A Vengeance!

Virtue Is The Fount Whence Honour Springs.

It Is A Comfort To The Miserable To Have Comrades In Misfortune, But It Is A Poor Comfort After All.

Lone Women, Like To Empty Houses, Perish.