Plots, true or false, are necessary things, To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.
The thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.
God never made his work for man to mend.
Hushed as midnight silence.
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.
Merit challenges envy.