And The Earth Self-balanced On Her Centre

All Hope Is Lost Of My Reception Into Grace; What Worse? For Where No Hope Is Left, Is Left No Fear.

It Is Chastity, My Brother. She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel.

Assuredly We Bring Not Innocence Not The World, We Bring Impurity Much Rather: That Which Purifies Us Is Trial, And Trial Is By What Is Contrary.

Or Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's Child!

Fame Is The Last Infirmity Of The Human Mind.