To Beguile The Time, Look Like The

Blessings Of Your Heart, You Brew Good Ale.

Why Should We Rise Because 'tis Light? Did We Lie Down Because T'was Night?

Cold Indeed, And Labor Lost: Then Farewell Heat, And Welcome Frost!

The Lowest Ebb Is The Turn Of The Tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made Of.

Ay, That Incestuous, That Adulterate Beast, With Witchcraft Of His Wit, With Traitorous Gifts- O Wicked Wit And Gifts, That Have The Power So To Seduce!