Thy Face Is Mine Eye, And Mine

Love Built On Beauty, Soon As Beauty, Dies.

I Am Two Fools, I Know, For Loving, And For Saying So.

The Sun Must Not Set Upon Anger, Much Less Will I Let The Sun Set Upon The Anger Of God Towards Me.

All Our Life Is But A Going Out To The Place Of Execution, To Death.

Nothing But Man Of All Envenomed Things, Doth Work Upon Itself, With Inborn Stings.