He Does It With Better

And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs'd They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin's Day.

Teach Me, Dear Creature, How To Think And Speak; Lay Open To My Earthy-gross Conceit, Smother'd In Errors, Feeble, Shallow, Weak, The Folded Meaning Of Your Words' Deceit.

No Place Indeed Should Murder Sanctuarize; Revenge Should Have No Bounds.

For A Noble Heart, The Most Precious Gift Becomes Poor, When The Giver Stops Loving.

Though I Am Not Naturally Honest, I Am Sometimes So By Chance.