More Matter With Less Art.

O, The Blood More Stirs To Rouse A Lion Than To Start A Hare!

O Me, You Juggler, You Canker-blossom, You Thief Of Love!

... And Death Unloads Thee.

There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will.

By Heaven, I Love Thee Better Than Myself