For Truth Hath Better Deeds Than Words

Bounty, Being Free Itself, Thinks All Others So.

Policy Sits Above Conscience.

Religious Canons, Civil Laws, Are Cruel; Then What Should War Be?

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me?