Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feelings as to sight?
Make use of time, let not advantage slip.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead . . . . . . . . . . . . And breathed such life with kisses in my lips That I revived and was an emperor.
If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
Pardon's the word to all.
...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.