Thou art a very ragged Wart.

We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow

Reply not to me with a fool-born jest.

Enter RUMOUR, painted full of ton

Rumour is a pipeBlown by surmises, jealousies, conjecturesAnd of so easy and so plain a stopThat the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.

RUMOUR:"Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.

Progress can’t be achieved without investing in and constantly improving yourself.

THE SEASONS REMIND ME THAT I MUST KEEP CHANGING.

No one wants to be entrapped by his or her addictive habit...

A street without trees is a street only for the sick-minded people whose god is nothing but money!

I'll fares the land to hastening ills of prey Where wealth accumulates and men decay.

My favourite things are jokes, friendliness and feeling comfortable.

The passing of the years awakens in our hearts the cry for permanence.

Now I've had everything except for the thrill of watching Babe Ruth play.

Don't worry, chief. We've got these Tualaghi surrounded - from the inside." "Exactly," Erak replied dryly.

Removing prejudices is, alas! too often removing the boundary of a delightful near prospect in order to let in a shockingly extensive one.