Despair and die. The ghosts

You know who you are, but know not who you could be.

I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.

Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.

Grief best is pleased with grief's society.

Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.