And To 'scape Stormy Days, I Choose

Great Sorrows Cannot Speak.

No Man Is An Island Unto Himself.

What If This Present Were The World's Last Night?

We Are All Conceived In Close Prison; In Our Mothers Wombs, We Are Close Prisoners All; When We Are Born, We Are Born But To The Liberty Of The House; Prisoners Still, Though Within Larger Walls; And Then All Our Life Is But A Going Out To The Place Of Execution, To Death.

As Soon As There Was Two There Was Pride.