I Have Not Slept One Wink.

For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth Done.

Wisely, And Slow. They Stumble That Run Fast.

Things May Serve Long, But Not Serve Ever.

You Told A Lie, An Odious Damned Lie; Upon My Soul, A Lie, A Wicked Lie.

. . . Nothing In His Life Became Him Like The Leaving It; He Died As One That Had Been Studied In His Death To Throw Away The Dearest Thing He Owed, As 'twere A Careless Trifle.