What A Piece Of Work Is A

How Lush And Lusty The Grass Looks! How Green!

Things Bad Begun Make Strong Themselves By Ill.

Thrust Your Head Into The Public Street, To Gaze On Christian Fools With Varnish'd Faces.

What Should A Man Do But Be Merry? For Look You How Cheerfully My Mother Looks, And My Father Died Within's Two Hours.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Merely Players: They Have Their Exits And Their Entrances; And One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts, His Acts Being Seven Ages.