A Knot You Are Of Damned Bloodsuckers.

Thou Art A Very Ragged Wart.

Wisdom And Fortune Combating Together, If That The Former Dare But What It Can, No Chance May Shake It.

The Gods Are Deaf To Hot And Peevish Vows. They Are Polluted Off'rings, More Abhorred! Than Spotted Livers In The Sacrifice.

He Is Not Great Who Is Not Greatly Good.

In Me Thou See'st The Twilight Of Such Day As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By And By Black Night Doth Take Away Death's Second Self, That Seals Up All In Rest. -sonnet 73