I'm armed with more than complete steel, - The justice of my quarrel

I'm armed with more than complete steel, - The justice of my quarrel.

Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, and four times he who gets his fist in fust

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, and he but naked, though locked up in steel, whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

Jigging veins of rhyming mother wits.

Accurst be he that first invented war.