Journeys end in lovers meeting.
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.
I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.