So Quick Bright Things Come To Confusion.​​​​​​

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.

Speak On, But Be Not Over-tedious.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.

Sweet Recreation Barred, What Doth Ensue But Moody And Dull Melancholy, Kinsman To Grim And Comfortless Despair.

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.