We cannot all be masters

Masters, spread yourselves.

Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.

We cannot all be masters, nor all masters can be truly followed

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.

Masters, I have to tell a tale of woe,A tale of folly and of wasted life,Hope against hope, the bitter dregs of strife,Ending, where all things end, in death at last.