Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

Barnes Are Blessings.

No Visor Does Become Black Villainy So Well As Soft And Tender Flattery.

[s]ince Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.