Ay, Is It Not A Language I

The Eyes Are The Window To Your Soul

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

Where The Greater Malady Is Fixed, The Lesser Is Scarce Felt.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter! My Lord, If You Will Give Me Leave, I Will Tread This Unbolted Villain Into Mortar, And Daub The Wall Of A Jakes With Him. *all Cheer For Shakespearean Insults*

Know More Than Other. Work More Than Other. Expect Less Than Other