So Many Horrid Ghosts.

I See That The Fashion Wears Out More Apparel Than The Man.

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men, Which Taken At The Flood, Leads On To Fortune. Omitted, All The Voyage Of Their Life Is Bound In Shallows And In Miseries. On Such A Full Sea Are We Now Afloat. And We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

Oh, Injurious Love, That Respites Me A Life, Whose Very Comfort Is Still A Dying Horror

I Have Drunk And Seen The Spider.