Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress

For Some Must Watch, While Some Must Sleep So Runs The World Away

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

The Very Substance Of The Ambitious Is Merely The Shadow Of A Dream.

Prosperity's The Very Bond Of Love, Whose Fresh Complexion And Whose Heart Together Affliction Alters.

Few Things Loves Better Than To Abhor Himself.