I Have A Soul Of

There's Villainous News Abroad.

I Had Rather Eleven Died Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.

By Jove, I Am Not Covetous For Gold, Nor Care I Who Doth Feed Upon My Cost; It Yearns Me Not If Me My Garments Wear; Such Outward Things Dwell Not In My Desires: But If It Be A Sin To Covet Honor, I Am The Most Offending Soul Alive.

You Must Confine Yourself Within The Modest Limits Of Order.

We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like Lamps By Day.