That deep torture may be called a hell, — William Shakespeare

"There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o the world. Oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time."

"The souls most fed with Shakespeares flame Still sat unconquered in a ring, Remembering him like anything."

"He is of no age — nor, I may add, of any religion, or party, or profession. The body and substance of his works came out of the unfathomable depths of his own oceanic mind."

"But Shakespears Magick could not copyd be, Within that Circle none durst walk but he."

"He was not of an age, but for all time!"

"Cry Havoc!, and let slip the dogs of war."