Time ... Thou Ceaseless Lackey

Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All; And Thus The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Slicked O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought

Chewing The Food Of Sweet And Bitter Fancy.

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None: Be Able For Thine Enemy Rather In Power Than Use; And Keep Thy Friend Under Thy Own Life's Key: Be Check'd For Silence, But Never Tax'd For Speech.

I Say, Without Characters, Fame Lives Long.