Hell Is Empty And All The Devils

It Were A Grief So Brief To Part With Thee. Farewell.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Mearly Players.