Honesty Is Not The Best Policy -

Or Are You Like The Painting Of A Sorrow, A Face Without A Heart?

Love Is Not Love Which Alters When It Alteration Finds, Or Bends With The Remover To Remove. O, No! It Is An Ever-fixed Mark, That Looks On Tempests And Is Never Shaken. It Is The Star To Every Wandering Bark, Whose Worth's Unknown, Although His Height Be Taken.

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

The Gods Are Just, And Of Our Pleasant Vices Make Instruments To Plague Us.

Sir, He's A Good Dog, And A Fair Dog.