O, Had I But Followed The Arts!

Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?

Be Advised; Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself: We May Outrun, By Violent Swiftness, That Which We Run At, And Lose By Over-running. Know You Not, The Fire That Mounts The Liquor Til Run O'er, In Seeming To Augment It Wastes It?

But Whate'er I Am, Nor I Nor Any Man That But Man Is, With Nothing Shall Be Pleased 'til He Be Eased With Being Nothing.

Lord, I Could Not Endure A Husband With A Beard On His Face! I Had Rather Lie In The Woolen.

Thus Can The Demigod Authority Make Us Pay Down For Our Offense By Weight The Words Of Heaven; On Whom It Will, It Will, On Whom It Will Not, So: Yet Still 'tis Just.