Journeys End In Lovers Meeting.

O, Beware, My Lord, Of Jealousy; It Is The Green-ey'd Monster, Which Doth Mock The Meat It Feeds On.

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue.

These Signs Have Marked Me Extraordinary, And All The Courses Of My Life Do Show I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

Death Makes No Conquest Of This Conqueror: For Now He Lives In Fame, Though Not In Life.

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.