But Thy Eternal Summer Shall Not Fade.

These Cardinals Trifle With Me; I Abhor; This Dilatory Sloth And Tricks Of Rome.

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.

The Painful Warrior Famous For Fight, After A Thousand Victories, Once Foil'd, Is From The Books Of Honor Razed Quite, And All The Rest Forgot For Which He Toil'd

...an Old Man Is Twice A Child.

Hamlet: Lady, Shall I Lie In Your Lap? Ophelia: No, My Lord. Hamlet: Did You Think I Meant Country Matters? Ophelia: I Think Nothing, My Lord. Hamlet: That's A Fair Thought To Lie Between Maids' Legs. Ophelia: What Is, My Lord? Hamlet: Nothing.