Hell Is Empty And All

I Hate Ingratitude More In A Man Than Lying, Vainness, Babbling, Drunkenness, Or Any Taint Of Vice Whose Strong Corruption Inhabits Our Frail Blood".

O Momentary Grace Of Mortal Men, Which We More Hunt For Than The Grace Of God!

They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony; Where Words Are Scarce, They're Seldom Spent In Vain; For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain.

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

What Is Done Cannot Be Now Amended.