I Am Not In The Roll Of

What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies No Plenty; Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

Love Is A Smoke Rais'd With The Fume Of Sighs; Being Purg'd, A Fire Sparkling In Lovers' Eyes; Being Vex'd, A Sea Nourish'd With Lovers' Tears; What Is It Else? A Madness Most Discreet, A Choking Gall, And A Preserving Sweet.

Men Judge By The Complexion Of The Sky The State And Inclination Of The Day.

Past And To Come, Seems Best; Things Present, Worse.

The Commonwealth Of Athens Is Become A Forest Of Beasts.