For I Am Nothing If Not Critical.

It Is Not Night When I Do See Your Face, Therefore I Think I Am Not In The Night; Nor Doth This Wood Lack Worlds Of Company, For You In My Respect Are All The World: Then How Can It Be Said I Am Alone, When All The World Is Here To Look On Me?

Bad Is The Trade That Must Play Fool To Sorrow, Ang'ring Itself And Others.

... And Death Unloads Thee.

The Tongues Of Mocking Wenches Are As Keen As Is The Razor's Edge Invisible.

For 'tis The Sport To Have The Engineer Hoist With His Own Petar; And't Shall Go Hard But I Will Delve One Yard Below Their Mines And Blow Them At The Moon.