Justice always whirls in equal measure.

The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.

I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.

Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.

Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.

We are such stuff that dreams are made of.

Are you up to your destiny?