Time Does Not Have The Same Appeal

O, But They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony: Where Words Are Scarce, They Are Seldom Spent In Vain: For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain. He, That No More Must Say, Is Listened More Than They Whom Youth And Ease Have Taught To Gloze; More Are Men's Ends Marked, Than Their Lives Before: The Setting Sun, And Music At The Close, As The Last Taste Of Sweets, Is Sweetest Last; Writ In Rememberance More Than Things Long Past

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

Look, What A Horse Should Have He Did Not Lack, Save A Proud Rider On His Back.

We Will Meet; And There We May Rehearse Most Obscenely And Courageously.

Against My Will I Am Sent To Bid You Come In To Dinner. Benedick Fair Beatrice, I Thank You For Your Pains. Beatrice I Took No More Pains For Those Thanks Than You Take Pains To Thank Me: If It Had Been Painful, I Would Not Have Come. Benedick You Take Pleasure Then In The Message? Beatrice Yea, Just So Much As You May Take Upon A Knife's Point ... You Have No Stomach, Signior: Fare You Well. Exit Benedick Ha! 'against My Will I Am Sent To Bid You Come In To Dinner;' There's A Double Meaning In That... (much Ado About Nothing)