Language Most Shows A Man, Speak That

I Know No Disease Of The Soul But Ignorance, A Pernicious Evil, The Darkener Of Man's Life, The Disturber Of His Reason, And Common Confounder Of Truth.

The Day For Whose Returns, And Many, All These Pray; And So Do I.

Well, I Will Scourge Those Apes, And To These Courteous Eyes Oppose A Mirror, As Large As Is The Stage Whereon We Act; Where They Shall See The Time's Deformity Anatomised In Every Nerve, And Sinew, With Constant Courage, And Contempt Of Fear.

It Strikes! One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six. Enough, Enough, Dear Watch, Thy Pulse Hath Beat Enough. Now Sleep And Rest; Would Thou Could'st Make The Time To Do So Too; I'll Wind Thee Up No More.

Your Highest Female Grace Is Silence.