Tears Water Our Growth.

Truly Thou Art Damned, Like An Ill-roasted Egg, All On One Side.

Had I No Eyes But Ears, My Ears Would Love. That Inward Beauty And Invisible; Or Were I Deaf, Thy Outward Parts Would Move Each Part In Me That Were But Sensible: Though Neither Eyes Nor Ears, To Hear Nor See, Yet Should I Be In Love By Touching Thee. 'say, That The Sense Of Feeling Were Bereft Me, And That I Could Not See, Nor Hear, Nor Touch, And Nothing But The Very Smell Were Left Me, Yet Would My Love To Thee Be Still As Much; For From The Stillitory Of Thy Face Excelling Comes Breath Perfum'd That Breedeth Love By Smelling.

Laughing Faces Do Not Mean That There Is Absence Of Sorrow! But It Means That They Have The Ability To Deal With It

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

Before, I Loved Thee As A Brother, John, But Now, I Do Respect Thee As My Soul.