Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
. . . from this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
My crown is in my heart, not on my head.
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home, And so am come abroad to see the world.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
Opinion crowns with an imperial voice.
The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.