Profit is a blessing, if it's not stolen.
Let's all cry peace, freedom, and liberty!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands. Curtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist, Foot is featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Ariel's song, scene II, Act I
Lawless are they that make their wills their law.