All live to die, and rise to fall.
Above our life we love a steadfast friend.
O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
I am Envy...I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I am asham'd, however that I seem, To think a word of such simple sound, Of such great matter should be made the ground.