Thy Wish Was Father, Harry, To That

Time Travels At Different Speeds For Different People. I Can Tell You Who Time Strolls For, Who It Trots For, Who It Gallops For, And Who It Stops Cold For.

Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean

Yet Writers Say, As In The Sweetest Bud The Eating Canter Dwells, So Eating Love Inhabits In The Finest Wits Of All.

The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths.

He's Mad That Trusts In The Tameness Of A Wolf.