Will You Walk Out Of The Air,

Nor Stony Tower, Nor Walls Of Beaten Brass, Nor Airless Dungeon, Nor Strong Links Of Iron, Can Be Retentive To The Strength Of Spirit; But Life, Being Weary Of These Worldly Bars, Never Lacks Power To Dismiss Itself.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

Guiltiness Will Speak, Though Tongues Were Out Of Use

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

Thou Canst Not Speak Of What Thou Dost Not Feel.