Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon

There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.

When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows

Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?

This is the short and the long of it.

My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

Desperate times breed desperate measures