The Last Taste Of Sweets Is Sweetest

Do You Set Down Your Name In The Scroll Of Youth, That Are Written Down Old With All The Characters Of Age?

Man, Proud Man, Drest In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assur D, Glassy Essence, Like An Angry Ape, Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven, As Make The Angels Weep.

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent Made Glorious Summer By This Sun Of York; And All The Clouds That Lour'd Upon Our House In The Deep Bosom Of The Ocean Buried.

Ask God For Temp'rance. That's Th' Appliance Only Which Your Disease Requires.

Not That I Loved Caesar Less, But That I Loved Rome More.