Night's Candles Have Burned Out,

So Long As Men Can Breathe, Or Eyes Can See, So Long Lives This, And This Gives Life To Thee.

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

Lady, With Me, With Me Thy Fortune Lies.

Suit The Action To The Word, The Word To The Action.

A Good Heart Is The Sun And The Moon; Or, Rather, The Sun And Not The Moon, For It Shines Bright And Never Changes.