Beauty Is Bought By Judgement Of The

He Lives In Fame That Died In Virtue's Cause.

I Understand A Fury In Your Words But Not Your Words.

We Must Love Men, Ere To Us They Will Seem Worthy Of Our Love.

Oh, How This Spring Of Love Resembleth, The Uncertain Glory Of An April Day, Which Now Shows All Beauty Of The Sun, And By And By A Cloud Takes All Away

Since Mine Own Doors Refuse To Entertain Me, I'll Knock Elsewhere, To See If They'll Disdain Me