Death, Thou Shalt Die.

Art Is The Most Passionate Orgy Within Man's Grasp.

Come Live With Me, And Be My Love, And We Will Some New Pleasures Prove Of Golden Sands, And Crystal Brooks, With Silken Lines, And Silver Hooks.

Only Our Love Hath No Decay; This, No Tomorrow Hath, Nor Yesterday, Running It Never Runs From Us Away, But Truly Keeps His First, Last, Everlasting Day.

Can There Be Worse Sickness, Than To Know That We Are Never Well, Nor Can Be So?

Good Is Not Good, Unless A Thousand It Possess, But Doth Waste With Greediness.