Ay, But To Die, And Go We

Give Me A Staff Of Honor For Mine Age, But Not A Sceptre To Control The World.

He Hath Not Eat Paper, As It Were; He Hath Not Drunk Ink; His Intellect Is Not Replenished; He Is Only An Animal, Only Sensible In The Duller Parts. (shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, Iv)

Dost Thou Love Hawking? Thou Hast Hawks Will Soar Above The Morning Lark.

There Is No Sure Foundation Set On Blood, No Certain Life Achieved By Others' Death.

Refrain To-night; And That Shall Lend A Kind Of Easiness To The Next Abstinence, The Next More Easy; For Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature, And Either Master The Devil Or Throw Him Out With Wondrous Potency.