Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!

So I be written in the Book of Love. I do not care about that Book Above. Erase my name, or write it as you will. So I be written in the Book of Love.

A drink is shorter than a tale

When I want to understand what is happening today or try to decide what will happen tomorrow, I look back.

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.

Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.

For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.