If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My

They Say Best Men Are Molded Out Of Faults, And, For The Most, Become Much More The Better For Being A Little Bad

No Place Indeed Should Murder Sanctuarize; Revenge Should Have No Bounds.

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

Opinion's But A Fool, That Makes Us Scan The Outward Habit By The Inward Man.

Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own