A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.
A tender sadness drops upon my soul, like the soft twilight dropping on the world.
Not on the stage alone, in the world also, a man's real character comes out best in his asides.
Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.
My heart like moon-charmed waters, all unrest.
My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.