O That My Tongue Were In The

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

I Have Been Studying How I May Compare This Prison Where I Live Unto The World; And, For Because The World Is Populous, And Here Is Not A Creature But Myself, I Cannot Do It. Yet I'll Hammer It Out.

We Should Hold Day With The Antipodes, If You Would Walk In Absence Of The Sun.

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear

The Sands Are Number'd That Make Up My Life; Here Must I Stay, And Here My Life Must End.