Juliet Is The East And I Am

Nor Shall This Peace Sleep With Her; But As When The Bird Of Wonder Dies, The Maiden Phoenix, Her Ashes New-create Another Heir As Great In Admiration As Herself.

No, No; 'tis All Men's Office To Speak Patience To Those That Wring Under The Load Of Sorrow, But No Man's Virtue Nor Sufficiency To Be So Moral When He Shall Endure The Like Himself. Therefore Give Me No Counsel: My Griefs Cry Louder Than Advertisement.

We Know What We Are, But Know Not What We May Be.

This World To Me Is Like A Lasting Storm,whirring Me From My Friends.

The Seasons Change Their Manners, As The Year Had Found Some Months Asleep And Leapt Them Over.