Here, Thou Incestuous, Murderous, Damned Dane, Drink

So Full Of Artless Jealousy Is Guilt, It Spills Itself In Fearing To Be Spilt.

No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It Is Gone.

Read O'er This And After, This, And Then To Breakfast With What Appetite You Have.

Get Thee Glass Eyes, And Like A Scurvy Politician, Seem To See The Things Thou Dost Not.

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.