I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.
The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?
I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God and death.