Even Through The Hollow Eyes Of Death

There Are Many Events In The Womb Of Time Which Will Be Delivered.

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

Good Fortune Then! To Make Me Blest Or Cursed'st Among Men.

So We Grew Together Like To A Double Cherry, Seeming Parted, But Yet An Union In Partition, Two Lovely Berries Molded On One Stem.

Spirits Are Not Finely Touched But To Fine Issues.