And He Goes Through Life, His Mouth

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness.

Glendower: I Can Call The Spirits From The Vasty Deep. Hotspur: Why, So Can I, Or So Can Any Man; But Will They Come, When You Do Call For Them?

The Clock Upbraids Me With The Waste Of Time.

Oh, Injurious Love, That Respites Me A Life, Whose Very Comfort Is Still A Dying Horror

The End Crowns All, And That Old Common Arbitrator, Time, Will One Day End It.