If Thou Remeber'st Not The Slightest Folly

Experience Teacheth That Resolution Is A Sole Help In Need.

O, She's Warm! If This Be Magic, Let It Be An Art Lawful As Eating.

Why, Friends, You Go To Do You Know Not What: Wherein Hath Caesar Thus Deserved Your Loves? Alas, You Know Not: I Must Tell You Then: You Have Forgot The Will I Told You Of. . . . . Here Is The Will, And Under Caesar's Seal. To Every Roman Citizen He Gives, To Every Several Man, Seventy-five Drachmas. . . . . Moreover, He Hath Left You All His Walks, His Private Arbours And New-planted Orchards, On This Side Tiber; He Hath Left Them You, And To Your Heirs For Ever, Common Pleasures, To Walk Abroad, And Recreate Yourselves. Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

What's Past And What's To Come Is Strew'd With Husks And Formless Ruin Of Oblivion.

Downy Sleep, Death's Counterfeit.