Time Does Not Have The Same Appeal

Knowing I Lov'd My Books, He Furnish'd Me From Mine Own Library With Volumes That I Prize Above My Dukedom.

No, Cassius; For The Eye Sees Not Itself, But By Reflection, By Some Other Things.

Lovers And Madmen Have Such Seething Brains Such Shaping Fantasies, That Apprehend More Than Cool Reason Ever Comprehends.

O, My Offence Is Rank, It Smells To Heaven

To Be In Love- Where Scorn Is Bought With Groans, Coy Looks With Heart-sore Sighs, One Fading Moment's Mirth With Twenty Watchful, Weary, Tedious Nights; If Haply Won, Perhaps A Hapless Gain; If Lost, Why Then A Grievous Labour Won; However, But A Folly Bought With Wit, Or Else A Wit By Folly Vanquished.