Thy Wish Was Father, Harry,

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

Cold Indeed, And Labor Lost: Then Farewell Heat, And Welcome Frost!

Et Tu Brute! (you Too, Brutus!)

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.

Some Rise By Sin, And Some By Virtue Fall.