My Salad Days, When I Was Green

For You And I Are Past Our Dancing Days.

Into What Dangers Would You Lead Me, Cassius, That You Would Have Me Seek Into Myself For That Which Is Not In Me?

Poor And Content Is Rich, And Rich Enough.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

To Sue To Live, I Find I Seek To Die; And, Seeking Death, Find Life: Let It Come On.