No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It

So We Grew Together Like To A Double Cherry, Seeming Parted, But Yet An Union In Partition, Two Lovely Berries Molded On One Stem.

Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean

Corruption Wins Not More Than Honesty.

To-morrow, And To-morrow, And To-morrow, Creeps In This Petty Pace From Day To Day, To The Last Syllable Of Recorded Time; And All Our Yesterdays Have Lighted Fools The Way To Dusty Death. Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More. It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

I Heard A Bird So Sing, Whose Music, To My Thinking, Pleased The King.