Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?
Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)
We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.
So quick bright things come to confusion.
What fates impose, that men must needs abide; it boots not to resist both wind and tide.