If all the world is a stage and life is just a play upon it, get me two seats in the stalls.
Smiling the boy fell dead.
There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.
Escape me? Never, beloved! While I am I, and you are you.
'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.