Take You Me For A Sponge?

A High Hope For A Low Heaven: God Grant Us Patience!

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

Let's Take The Instant By The Forward Top; For We Are Old, And On Our Quick'st Decrees The Inaudible And Noiseless Foot Of Time Steals Ere We Can Effect Them.

Bid Me Discourse, I Will Enchant Thine Ear

I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark.