And Send Him Many Years Of Sunshine

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!

Misery Acquaints A Man With Strange Bedfellows.

The Fortune Of Us That Are The Moon's Men Doth Ebb And Flow Like The Sea, Being Governed, As The Sea Is, By The Moon.

Being Holiday, The Beggar's Shop Is Shut.

This Most Excellent Canopy, The Air, Look You, This Brave O-erhanging Firmament, This Majestical Roof Fretted With Golden Fire.