This Fell Sergeant, Death, Is Strict In

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together.

There's No Better Sign Of A Brave Mind Than A Hard Hand.

O! That A Man Might Know The End Of This Day's Business, Ere It Come; But It Sufficeth That The Day Will End, And Then The End Is Known.

O That My Tongue Were In The Thunder's Mouth! Then With Passion Would I Shake The World, And Rouse From Sleep That Fell Anatomy Which Cannot Hear A Lady's Feeble Voice, Which Scorns A Modern Invocation.

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get.