I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

However wickedness outstrips men, it has no wings to fly from God.

In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.

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.

All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.

Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.