This Is The Very Coinage Of Your

I Drink To The General Joy O’ The Whole Table." Macbeth

Gloucester: Yet So Much Is My Poverty Of Spirit, So Mighty And So Many My Defects, As I Had Rather Hide Me From My Greatness, Being A Bark To Brook No Mighty Sea, Than In My Greatness Covet To Be Hid, And In The Vapour Of My Glory Smother'd. But God Be Thanked. . . .

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

How Oft The Sight Of Means To Do Ill Deeds Makes Ill Deeds Done!

Ambition's Debt Is Paid.