I Will Be Brief. Your

A Thousand Moral Paintings I Can Show That Shall Demonstrate These Quick Blows Of Fortune's More Pregnantly Than Words.

A Right Judgment Draws Us A Profit From All Things We See .

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

Nor Stony Tower, Nor Walls Of Beaten Brass, Nor Airless Dungeon, Nor Strong Links Of Iron, Can Be Retentive To The Strength Of Spirit; But Life, Being Weary Of These Worldly Bars, Never Lacks Power To Dismiss Itself.

From You Have I Been Absent In The Spring, When Proud Pied April, Dressed In All His Trim, Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Every Thing.