Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven; And As Imagination Bodies Forth The Forms Of Things Unknown, The Poet's Pen Turns Them To Shape, And Gives To Airy Nothing A Local Habitation And A Name; Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination.

Wise Men Ne'er Sit And Wail Their Woes, But Presently Prevent The Ways To Wail.

A Good Heart 'is Worth Gold.

The Deep Of Night Is Crept Upon Our Talk, And Nature Must Obey Necessity.

Sin, That Amends, Is But Patched With Virtue.