Why What A Fool Was I To

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings... All Murdered; For Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King, Keeps Death His Court... And With A Little Pin Bores Through His Castle Wall, And Farewell King!

Crabbed Age And Youth Cannot Live Together: Youth Is Full Of Pleasance, Age Is Full Of Care.

I Crave Fit Disposition For My Wife; Due Reference Of Place, And Exhibition; With Such Accommodation, And Besort, As Levels With Her Breeding.

My Prophecy Is But Half His Journey Yet, For Yonder Walls, That Pertly Front Your Town, Yon Towers, Whose Wanton Tops Do Buss The Clouds, Must Kiss Their Own Feet.

Woe, Destruction, Ruin, And Decay; The Worst Is Death And Death Will Have His Day.