Quote: What Angel Wakes Me From My

O Death, Made Proud With Pure And Princely Beauty!

Aand In The End, Having My Freedom, Boast Of Nothing Else But That I Was A Journeyman To Grief?

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

For Here, I Hope, Begins Our Lasting Joy.

To Some Kind Of Men Their Graces Serve Them But As Enemies.