Men Shut Their Doors Against

Nay Then, Let The Devil Wear Black, For I'll Have A Suit Of Sables.

A Time, Methinks, Too Short To Make A World-without-end Bargain In.

Bad Is The Trade That Must Play Fool To Sorrow, Ang'ring Itself And Others.

Dream In Light Years, Challenge Miles, Walk Step By Step

For Where Thou Art, There Is The World Itself, With Every Several Pleasure In The World, And Where Thou Art Not, Desolation.