But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.
I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God and death.
Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.