POISON

„Die Wahrheit ist ein bitt'rer Trank und wer sie braut hat selten Dank, denn der Menge schwacher Magen kann sie nur verdünnt vertragen.“

in the memory on . .

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Full character'd with lasting memory, Which shall above that idle rank remain Beyond all date, even to eternity; Or at the least, so long as brain and heart Have faculty by nature to subsist; Till each to razed oblivion yield his part Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd. That poor retention could not so much hold, Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score; Therefore to give them from me was I bold, To trust those tables that receive thee more: To keep an adjunct to remember thee Were to import forgetfulness in me.
William Shakespeare