The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths.

The Law Hath Not Been Dead, Though It Hath Slept.

What's The Newest Grief? Each Minute Tunes A New One.

Let Fame, That All Hunt After In Their Lives, Live Regist'red Upon Our Brazen Tombs And Then Grace Us In The Disgrace Of Death; When, Spite Of Cormorant Devouring Time, Th' Endeavor Of This Present Breath May Buy That Honor Which Shall Bate His Scythe's Keen Edge And Make Us Heirs Of All Eternity.

There Is Not One Wise Man In Twenty That Will Praise Himself.

If You Did Wed My Sister For Her Wealth, Then For Her Wealth's Sake Use Her With More Kindness; Or, If You Like Elsewhere, Do It By Stealth; Muffle Your False Love With Some Show Of Blindness; Let Not My Sister Read It In Your Eye; Be Not Thy Tongue Thy Own Shame's Orator; Look Sweet, Speak Fair, Become Disloyalty; Apparel Vice Like Virtue's Harbinger; Bear A Fair Presence, Though Your Heart Be Tainted; Teach Sin The Carriage Of A Holy Saint; Be Secret-false.