To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? William Shakespeare
If ever you disturb our streets again, 98 Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. William Shakespeare
Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, that shakes not, though they blow perpetually. William Shakespeare
There have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them. William Shakespeare