Was Ever Woman In This Humour Wooed?

What Is Past Is Prologue.

My Free Drift Halts Not Particularly, But Moves Itself In A Wide Sea Of Wax; No Levelled Malice Infects One Comma In The Course I Hold, But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.

That Is Honor's Scorn Which Challenges Itself As Honor's Born And Is Not Like The Sire. Honors Thrive When Rather From Our Acts We Them Derive Than Our Foregoers.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.

O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return