Diseased Nature Oftentimes Breaks Forth In Strange

So Musical A Discord, Such Sweet Thunder.

Master, Go On, And I Will Follow Thee To The Last Gasp With Truth And Loyalty.

Therefore The Moon, The Governess Of Floods, Pale In Her Anger Washes All The Air, That Rheumatic Diseases Do Abound; And Through This Distemperature We See The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

One Touch Of Nature Makes The Whole World Kin.

Tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil.