If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It

Now The Melancholy Of God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Doublet Of Changable Taffata, For Thy Mind Is A Very Opal. I Would Have Men Of Such Constancy Put To Sea, That Their Business Might Be Everything, And Their Intent Everywhere, For That's It, That Always Makes A Good Voyage Of Nothing.

Nor Aught So Good But Strained From That Fair Use, Revolts From True Birth Stumbling On Abuse.

Absence From Those We Love Is Self From Self - A Deadly Banishment.

There Is No More Mercy In Him Than There Is Milk In A Male Tiger.

Here, Thou Incestuous, Murderous, Damned Dane, Drink Off This Potion!