Cos since i've come home, well my body's been a mess And i've missed your ginger hair and the way you dress Won't you come on over stop making a fool out of me Why won't you come on over Valerie? Valerie? Valerie? Valerie?...

I have no spur / To prick the sides of my intent, but only / Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself / And falls on th' other.

They look better and ship better in the half apple-box.

As he did so he heard the shuffle of footsteps entering the chapel and the clicking of the confessional wicket.