O That My Tongue Were In The

Can It Be Chat Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness?

Farewell The Plumed Troop, And The Big Wars That Make Ambition Virtue! O, Farewell! Farewell The Neighing Steed And The Shrill Trump, The Spirit-stirring Drum, Th' Ear-piercing Fife, The Royal Banner, And All Quality, Pride, Pomp, And Circumstance Of Glorious War!

Gold Were As Good As Twenty Orators.

The Soul Of This Man Is His Clothes.

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.