Foul canker of fair virtuous action, Vile blaster of the freshest blooms on earth, Envys abhorred child, Detraction, I here expose, to thy all-tainting breath, The issue of my brain: snarl, rail, bark, bite, Know that my spirit scorns Detraction's spite.

Who winks and shuts his apprehension up.

For see, the dapple-grey coursers of the morn Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs, And chase it through the sky.

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, am…

It's this way: being captured is beside the point, the point is not to surrender.

To obtain credibility, an unending series of daily correct actions are necessary. To lose it, one mistake is enough.

My character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied.