I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

I Can No Other Answer Make, But, Thanks, And Thanks.

Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!

Let's Take The Instant By The Forward Top; For We Are Old, And On Our Quick'st Decrees The Inaudible And Noiseless Foot Of Time Steals Ere We Can Effect Them.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.

What A Pretty Thing Man Is When He Goes In His Doublet And Hose And Leaves Off His Wit!