Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!

I See A Man's Life Is A Tedious One.

Murder Most Foul, As In The Best It It; But This Most Foul, Strange, And Unnatural.

My Heart Suspects More Than Mine Eye Can See.

But 'tis Common Proof, That Lowliness Is Young Ambition's Ladder, Whereto The Climber-upward Turns His Face; But When He Once Attains The Upmost Round, He Then Turns His Back, Looks In The Clouds, Scorning The Vase Defrees By Which He Did Ascend.

Short Summers Lightly Have A Forward Spring.