Dream In Light Years, Challenge Miles, Walk

Do Not For One Repulse, Forego The Purpose That You Resolved To Effect.

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight; Which Therein Works A Miracle In Nature, Making Them Lightest That Wear Most Of It: So Are Those Crisped Snaky Golden Locks Which Make Such Wanton Gambols With The Wind Upon Supposed Fairness, Often Known To Be The Dowry Of A Second Head, The Skull That Bred Them In The Sepulchre.

We Go To Gain A Little Patch Of Ground That Hath In It No Profit But The Name.

Why, What Should Be The Fear? I Do Not Set My Life At A Pin's Fee.

What, All So Soon Asleep! I Wish Mine Eyes Would, With Themselves, Shut Up My Thoughts.