Men at some time are masters of their fates.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me

Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?

My heart is ever at your service.

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurour and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!

Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.

Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.