Each Substance Of A Grief Has Twenty

Sweet Mercy Is Nobility's True Badge.

What's Past And What's To Come Is Strew'd With Husks And Formless Ruin Of Oblivion.

The Heavens Themselves, The Planets, And This Centre Observe Degree, Priority, And Place, Insisture, Course, Proportion, Season, Form, Office, And Custom, In All Line Of Order.

I Cannot Tell What The Dickens His Name Is.

I'll Make Death Love Me; For I Will Contend Even With His Pestilent Scythe.