Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A

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

In Me Thou See'st The Twilight Of Such Day As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By And By Black Night Doth Take Away Death's Second Self, That Seals Up All In Rest. -sonnet 73

By The Pricking Of My Thumbs, Something Wicked This Way Comes.

This Is A Way To Kill A Wife With Kindness.

Tax Not So Bad A Voice To Slander Music Any More Than Once.