You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles.

Gloucester: Yet So Much Is My Poverty Of Spirit, So Mighty And So Many My Defects, As I Had Rather Hide Me From My Greatness, Being A Bark To Brook No Mighty Sea, Than In My Greatness Covet To Be Hid, And In The Vapour Of My Glory Smother'd. But God Be Thanked. . . .

For My Own Part, I Shall Be Glad To Learn Of Noble Men.

It Is In Pardoning That We Are Pardoned.

The Strawberry Grows Underneath The Nettle And Wholesome Berries Thrive And Ripen Best Neighbour'd By Fruit Of Baser Quality.

In Maiden Meditation, Fancy Free.