Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
Griefs assured are felt before they come.
War is the trade of kings.
I'm a little wounded, but I am not slain; I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I'll rise and fight again.
From Harmony, from heav'nly Harmony. This universal Frame began.
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise!