Grace Me No Grace, Nor

Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair, Which Like Two Spirits Do Suggest Me Still: The Better Angel Is A Man Right Fair, The Worser Spirit A Woman Coloured Ill.

Are There No Stones In Heaven But What Serves For Thunder?

Thou Shouldst Not Have Been Old Till Thou Hadst Been Wise.

And Nothing Can We Call Our Own But Death And That Small Model Of The Barren Earth Which Serves As Paste And Cover To Our Bones. For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

Adversity's Sweet Milk, Philosophy.