Spare Me The Whispering, Crowded Room, The

Calm's Not Life's Crown, Though Calm Is Well.

I Keep Saying, Shakespeare, Shakespeare, You Are As Obscure As Life Is.

However, If I Shall Live To Be Eighty I Shall Probably Be The Only Person Left In England Who Reads Anything But Newspapers And Scientific Publications.

Weary Of Myself, And Sick Of Asking What I Am, And What I Ought To Be, At This Vessel's Prow I Stand, Which Bears Me Forwards, Forwards, O'er The Starlit Sea.

And We Forget Because We Must And Not Because We Will.