Nothing Can Come Of Nothing.

Ruin Has Taught Me To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death, Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

Shall I Not Take Mine Ease In Mine Inn But I Shall Have My Pocket Picked?

Double, Double, Toil And Trouble; Fire Burn, And Cauldron Bubble!

A Woman's Thought Runs Before Her Actions.

We Know What We Are, But Know Not What We May Be.