My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.
Doth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a breaking of prison?
Christ beats his drum, but he does not press men; Christ is served with voluntaries.
Doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is.
For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere
'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's.