What Is Mine, Even To My Life,

Malice, In Its False Witness, Promotes Its Tale With So Cunning A Confusion, So Mingles Truths With Falsehoods, Surmises With Certainties, Causes Of No Moment With Matters Capital, That The Accused Can Absolutely Neither Grant Nor Deny, Plead Innocen.

There Have Been Many Most Excellent Poets That Have Never Versified, And Now Swarm Many Versifiers That Need Never Answer To The Name Of Poets.

The End Of All Knowledge Should Be In Virtuous Action.

High Honor Is Not Only Gotten And Born By Pain And Danger, But Must Be Nursed By The Like, Else It Vanisheth As Soon As It Appears To The World.

**did You Realize How Much A Kiss Says, Philip???** Oh My Angel I Doooo....a Kiss Is The Beginning Of, Middle To, And End Of Most Things I Love About Life.