Too Much To Know Is To Know

My Prophecy Is But Half His Journey Yet, For Yonder Walls, That Pertly Front Your Town, Yon Towers, Whose Wanton Tops Do Buss The Clouds, Must Kiss Their Own Feet.

Thrift, Thrift, Horatio! The Funeral Bak'd Meats Did Coldly Furnish Forth The Marriage Tables.

There Is A River In Macedon, And There Is Moreover A River In Monmouth. It Is Called Wye At Monmouth, But It Is Out Of My Prains What Is The Name Of The Other River; But 'tis All One, 'tis Alike As My Fingers Is To My Fingers, And There Is Salmons In Both.

For Naught So Vile That On The Earth Doth Live But To The Earth Some Special Good Doth Give.

The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly And Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue!