My Purpose Is, Indeed, A Horse Of

The Let-alone Lies Not In Your Good Will.

The Purest Treasure Mortal Times Can Afford Is A Spotless Reputation.

If Chance Will Have Me King, Why, Chance May Crown Me.

And Will He Not Come Again? And Will He Not Come Again? No, No, He Is Dead. Go To Thy Deathbed. He Never Will Come Again.

No Beast So Fierce But Knows Some Touch Of Pity. But I Know None, And Therefore Am No Beast.