A knock-down argument; 'tis but a word and a blow.
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
Even victors are by victories undone.
Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more; Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's: Souls know no conquerors.
She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
There is a proud modesty in merit.