What Feeds Me Destroys Me.

The Griefs Of Private Men Are Soon Allayed, But Not Of Kings.

Cut Is The Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight, And Burned Is Apollo's Laurel Bough, That Sometime Grew Within This Learned Man. Faustus Is Gone.

Make Me Immortal With A Kiss.

Jigging Veins Of Rhyming Mother Wits.

Infinite Riches In A Little Room.