Men From Children Nothing Differ.

The Deep Of Night Is Crept Upon Our Talk, And Nature Must Obey Necessity.

Ay, That Incestuous, That Adulterate Beast, With Witchcraft Of His Wit, With Traitorous Gifts- O Wicked Wit And Gifts, That Have The Power So To Seduce!

Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me Speak Of Nothing But Despair.

Why What A Fool Was I To This Drunken Monster For A God. - Caliban

Men's Evil Manners Live In Brass; Their Virtues We Write In Water.