Honour Travels In A Strait

I Wonder That You Will Still Be Talking. Nobody Marks You.

A Whoreson Jackanapes Must Take Me Up For Swearing; As If I Borrowed Mine Oaths Of Him And Might Not Spend Them At My Pleasure. When A Gentleman Is Disposed To Swear, It Is Not For Any Standers-by To Curtail His Oaths, Ha?

Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbled Shore, So Do Our Minutes Hasten To Their End; Each Changing Place With That Which Goes Before, In Sequent Toil All Forwards Do Contend.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus, Or Thus.

What Time Hath Scanted Men In Hair, He Hath Given Them In Wit.