Phrase by 'James Shirley'

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The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings. Scepter and crown must tumble down, And, in the dust, be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Author: James Shirley - English Dramatist
  Down , Death , Shadows , Crown


There is no armor against fate.

Author: James Shirley - English Dramatist
  Against , Fate , Armor


Only the actions of the just, Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

Author: James Shirley - English Dramatist


Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.

Author: James Shirley - English Dramatist
  Men , Death , Crowd , Common


The honor is overpaid, When he that did the act is commentator.

Author: James Shirley - English Dramatist
  Honor , He , Act , Did


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