Beauty Lives With Kindness.

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine. I Have Not That Alacrity Of Spirit Nor Cheer Of Mind That I Was Wont To Have.

Love's Heralds Should Be Thoughts, Which Ten Times Faster Glide Than The Sun's Beams Driving Back Shadows Over Low'ring Hills. Therefore Do Nimble-pinioned Doves Draw Love, And Therefore Hath The Wind-swift Cupid Wings.

God Defend Me From That Welsh Fairy, Lest He Transform Me To A Piece Of Cheese!

Devoutly To Be Wish'd. To Die, To Sleep; To Sleep, Perchance To Dream—for In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come,when We Have Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil, Must Give Us Pause, There's The Respect, That Makes Calamity Of So Long Life

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.