Here Will Be An Old Abusing Of

Friendship's Full Of Dregs.

But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

Sir, In My Heart There Was A Kind Of Fighting That Would Not Let Me Sleep.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners.

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives In Your Weakness Strength Unto Your Foe.