Slander Lives Upon Succession, For Ever Housed

Sin Will Pluck On Sin.

This Is His Uncle's Teaching, This Worcester, Malevolent To You In All Aspects, Which Makes Him Prune Himself And Bristle Up The Crest Of Youth Against Your Dignity.

Too Much Of Water Hast Thou, Poor Ophelia, And Therefore I Forbid My Tears.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest, And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From This World-wearied Flesh. Eyes, Look Your Last! Arms, Take Your Last Embrace! And, Lips, O You The Doors Of Breath, Seal With A Righteous Kiss A Dateless Bargain To Engrossing Death!

It Is Silliness To Live When To Live Is Torment, And Then Have We A Prescription To Die When Death Is Our Physician.