Take Pains. Be Perfect.

I Despised My Arrival On This Earth And I Despise My Departure; It Is A Tragedy.

Let Him Smell His Way To Dover!

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

A Wicked Conscience Mouldeth Goblins Swift As Frenzy Thoughts.

I Have Unclasp'd To Thee The Book Even Of My Secret Soul.