Whoever commands the sea, commands the trade; whosoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself.

A wandering minstrel I A thing of shreds and patches Of ballads, songs and snatches And dreamy lullaby!

What is our life? A play of passion. Our mirth the music of division. Our mother's wombs the tyring houses be, Where we are drest for this short Comedy.

Who so desireth to know what will be hereafter, let him think of what is past, for the world hath ever been in a circular revolution; whatsoever is now, was heretofore; and things past or present, are no other than such as shall be again: Redit orbis in orbem.

Remember, that if thou marry for beauty, thou bindest thyself all thy life for that which, perchance, will never last nor please thee one year; and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of no price at all.

Passions are likened best to floods and streams: The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb.

There is nothing exempt from the peril of mutation; the earth, heavens, and whole world is thereunto subject.