Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

So Long As Men Can Breathe, Or Eyes Can See, So Long Lives This, And This Gives Life To Thee.

I Am One, My Liege, Whom The Vile Blows And Buffets Of The World Have So Incensed That I Am Reckless What I Do To Spite The World.

Angels And Ministers Of Grace Defend Us.

A Good Wit Will Make Use Of Anything.