A Table Full Of Welcome

O For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention, A Kingdom For A Stage, Princes To Act And Monarchs To Behold The Swelling Scene!

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Or Anger

But I Will Wear My Heart Upon My Sleeve For Daws To Peck At: I Am Not What I Am.

I Am Not Yet Of Percy's Mind, The Hotspur Of The North; He That Kills Me Some Six Or Seven Dozen Of Scots As A Breakfast, Washes His Hands, And Says To His Wife, 'fie Upon This Quiet Life! I Want Work.

If She Lives Till Doomsday, She'll Burn A Week Longer Than The Whole World.