Our wills and fates do so contrary runThat our devices still are overthrown;Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own

Lawless are they that make their wills their law.

All's well that ends well. . . .

Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Religion is not ours till we live by it, till it is the Religion of our thoughts, words, and actions, till it goes with us into every place, sits uppermost on every occasion, and forms and governs our hopes and fears, our cares and pleasures.