We All Are Men, In

I Am Your Wife If You Will Marry Me. If Not, I'll Die Your Maid. To Be Your Fellow You May Deny Me, But I'll Be Your Servant Whether You Will Or No.

Why Should We Rise Because 'tis Light? Did We Lie Down Because T'was Night?

Virtue That Transgresses Is But Patched With Sin; And Sin That Amends Is But Patched With Virtue.

The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention Like Deep Harmony.

O, This Life Is Nobler Than Attending For A Check, Richer Than Doing Nothing For A Robe, Prouder Than Rustling In Unpaid-for Silk: Such Pain The Cap Of Him That Makes Him Fine Yet Keeps His Book Uncrossed.