O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all >>
Fear no more the heat o the sun, nor the furious winter's rages. Thou >>
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven. >>
Some of us will do our jobs well and some will not, but we will all be >>
Last week is the time you should have either bought or sold, depending >>
You always succeed in producing a result. >>
Nothing will come of nothing.