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When am I gonna get out of this Insha'Allah
No, faith, not a jot. But to follow him thither with
modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it, as thus:
Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander
returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make
loam—and why of that loam, whereto he was
converted, might they not stop a beer barrel?
Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter’s flaw!
But soft, but soft a while.
...
Not a whit, we defy augury. There is special providence in
the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; i