Good Words Are Better Than Bad Strokes.

I Understand Thy Kisses, And Thou Mine, And That's A Feeling Disputation.

Youth To Itself Rebels, Though None Else Near.

Why, Thou Deboshed Fish Thou...wilt Thou Tell A Monstrous Lie, Being But Half A Fish And Half A Monster?

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me? Young Son, It Argues A Distemper'd Head So Soon To Bid Good Morrow To Thy Bed: Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man's Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie; But Where Unbruised Youth With Unstuff'd Brain Doth Couch His Limbs, There Golden Sleep Doth Reign.

Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May.