How Many Times Go We To Comedies,

When My Mouth Shall Be Filled With Dust, And The Worm Shall Feed, And Feed Sweetly Upon Me, When The Ambitious Man Shall Have No Satisfaction If The Poorest Alive Tread Upon Him, Nor The Poorest Receive Any Contentment In Being Made Equal To Princes, For They Shall Be Equal But In Dust.

No Man Is An Island Unto Himself.

We Love And Understand Talent; We Wish It Be Within Us. The Truly Gifted, Those Exceptional Few, Must Wait For The World To Catch Up.

My World's Both Parts, And 'o! Both Parts Must Die.

To An Incompetent Judge I Must Not Lie, But I May Be Silent; To A Competent I Must Answer.