Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting.
To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
My age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
'Tis the mind that makes the body rich.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
When valor preys on reason, it eats the sword it fights with.
This above all: TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE. And it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
Suit the action to the world, the world to the action, with this special observance, that you overstep not the modesty of nature.
I wish you all the joy you can wish.
Be great in act, as you have been in thought.