Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects treachery?

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; and study help for that which thou lamentest.

For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

For I can raise no money by vile means.

Let the end try the man.

Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.

The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We are such stuff as dreams are made of.