The Wounds Invisible That Love's Keen Arrows

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter!

She Is Mine Own, And I As Rich In Having Such A Jewel As Twenty Seas, If All Their Sand Were Pearl, The Water Nectar, And The Rocks Pure Gold.

A Contract Of Eternal Bond Of Love, Confirm'd By Mutual Joinder Of Your Hands, Arrested By The Holy Close Of Lips, Strength'ned By The Interchangement Of Your Rings, And All The Ceremony Of This Compact Seal'd In My Function, By My Testimony.

In Limited Professions There's Boundless Theft.

I Have No Other But A Woman's Reason: I Think Him So, Because I Think Him So.