Is There No Pity Sitting

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth, And Thus Do We Of Wisdom And Of Reach, With Windlasses And With Assays Of Bias, By Indirections Find Directions Out.

Who Can Control His Fate?

Discuss Unto Me: Art Thou Officer, Or Art Thou Base, Common, And Popular?

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

I'll Make Death Love Me; For I Will Contend Even With His Pestilent Scythe.