Like Patience Gazing On Kings'

Thou Hast Most Traitorously Corrupted The Youth Of The Realm In Erecting A Grammar School.

What, With My Tongue In Your Tail? Nay, Come Again, Good Kate; I Am A Gentleman.

Every Subject's Duty Is The King's; But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own. Therefore, Should Every Soldier In The Wars Do As Every Sick Man In His Bed, Wash Every Mote Out Of His Conscience; And Dying So, Death Is To Him Advantage; Or Not Dying, The Time Was Blessedly Lost Wherein Such Preparation Was Gained; And In Him That Escapes, It Were No Sin To Think That, Making God So Free An Offer, He Let Him Outlive The Day To See His Greatness And To Teach Others How They Should Prepare.

A College Of Wit-crackers Cannot Flout Me Out Of My Humor. Dost Thou Think I Care For A Satire Or An Epigram?

Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself.