The Breaking Of So Great A Thing

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

Minutes, Hours, Days, Months, And Years, Pass'd Over To The End They Were Created, Would Bring White Hairs Unto A Quiet Grave. Ah, What A Life Were This!

O Good Old Man, How Well In Thee Appears The Constant Service Of The Antique World, When Service Sweat For Duty, Not For Meed! Thou Art Not For The Fashion Of These Times, Where None Will Sweat But For Promotion, And Having That Do Choke Their Service Up Even With The Having. . . .

Ambition Should Be Made Of Sterner Stuff.

... By Indirections Find Directions Out.