And His Unkindness May Defeat

He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Treason And Murder Ever Kept Together, As Two Yoke-devils Sworn To Either's Purpose, Working So Grossly In A Natural Cause That Admiration Did Not Whoop At Them; But Thou, 'gainst All Proportion, Didst Bring In Wonder To Wait On Treason And On Murder; And Whatsoever Cunning Fiend It Was That Wrought Upon Thee So Preposterously Hath Got The Voice In Hell For Excellence.

When You Do Dance, I Wish You A Wave O' The Sea, That You Might Ever Do Nothing But That.

Short Time Seems Long In Sorrow's Sharp Sustaining.

Drown Thyself? Drown Cats And Blind Puppies.