You Lack The Season Of All Natures,

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

'tis Not Enough To Help The Feeble Up, But To Support Them After.

Most Friendship Is Faining, Most Loving Mere Folly: Then, Heigh-ho, The Holly. This Life Is Most Jolly.

And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up.

You Speak Like A Green Girl / Unsifted In Such Perilous Circumstances.