Silence is the perfect herald of joy.

Perseverance, my dear Lord. Keeps honour bright.

That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.

Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

I fill up a place, which may be better... when I have made it empty.

Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends.

Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!