Many A Good Hanging Prevents

A Countenance More In Sorrow Than In Anger.

This Sanguine Coward, This Bed-presser, This Horseback-breaker, This Huge Hill Of Flesh!

Absence Doth Sharpen Love, Presence Strengthens It; The One Brings Fuel, The Other Blows It Till It Burns Clear.

Sound Trumpets! Let Our Bloody Colours Wave! And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Light, Seeking Light, Doth Light Of Light Beguile