As soon as there was two there was pride.
Between cowardice and despair, valour is gendred.
Doth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a breaking of prison?
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.