Mine Eyes Smell Onions: I Shall Weep

Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More; Or Close The Wall Up With Our English Dead! In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger.

Come, Go With Us, Speak Fair; You May Salve So, Not What Is Dangerous Present, But The Los Of What Is Past.

Finish, Good Lady; The Bright Day Is Done, And We Are For The Dark.

Against Love's Fire Fear`s Frost Hath Dissolution

The Play's The Thing.