Dissembling Harlot, Thou Art False In All!

I Kissed Thee Ere I Killed Thee. No Way But This, Killing Myself, To Die Upon A Kiss.

Kindness Nobler Ever Than Revenge.

That We Would Do We Should Do When We Would, For This 'would' Changes, And Hath Abatements And Delays As Many As There Are Tongues, Are Hands, Are Accidents, And Then This 'should' Is Like A Spendthrift Sigh, That Hurts By Easing.

Death Where Is Thy Sting? Love, Where Is Thy Glory?

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