turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the nigh… - William Shakespeare

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
Show minutes, times, and hours.

If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!

No legacy is so rich as honesty.