The Dullness Of The Fool Is The

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together.

Conscience Is A Thousand Swords.

Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was Now A Coward On Instinct.

I Say, Without Characters, Fame Lives Long.

So May I, Blind Fortune Leading Me, Miss That Which One Unworthier May Attain, And Die With Grieving.