Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death

If Wishes Would Prevail With Me, My Purpose Should Not Fail With Me.

Titus Andronicus, My Lord The Emperor Sends Thee This Word, That, If Thou Love Thy Sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, Or Thyself, Old Titus, Or Any One Of You, Chop Off Your Hand And Send It To The King: He For The Same Will Send Thee Hither Both Thy Sons Alive, And That Shall Be The Ransom For Their Fault.

I Have Heard Of Your Paintings Too, Well Enough; God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourselves Another.

I Desire You In Friendship, And I Will One Way Or Other Make You Amends.

He That Is Thy Friend Indeed, He Will Help You In Your Need.