And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

Let us kill all lawyers

Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.

With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out

Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.

The painful warrior famous for fight, After a thousand victories, once foil'd, Is from the books of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd