Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.
Ships are but boards, sailors but men.
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
They have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep.