Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.

What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours.

Haste is needful in a desperate case.

Send danger from the east unto the west, so honor cross it from the north to south.

Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.

I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.

I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.