Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
Well, God's above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!