A Plague Of Sighing And Grief! It

Courage And Comfort, All Shall Yet Go Well

We Have Seen Better Days.

It Is War's Prize To Take All Vantages; And Ten To One Is No Impeach Of Valor.

A Woman's Thought Runs Before Her Actions.

Why Then, O Brawling Love! O Loving Hate! O Any Thing, Of Nothing First Create! O Heavy Lightness, Serious Vanity, Misshapen Chaos Of Well-seeming Forms, Feather Of Lead, Bright Smoke, Cold Fire, Sick Health, Still-waking Sleep, That Is Not What It Is! This Love Feel I, That Feel No Love In This.