What, Can The Devil Speak True?

That But This Blow Might Be The Be-all And The End-all Here, But Here, Upon This Bank And Shoal Of Time, We'ld Jump The Life To Come.

Art Made Tongue-tied By Authority.

When Truth Kills Truth, O Devilish Holy Fray!

But Now Behold, In The Quick Forge And Working-house Of Thought, How London Doth Pour Out Her Citizens!

She's Gone. I Am Abused, And My Relief Must Be To Loathe Her.