I Bear A Charmed Life.

Be Wise As Thou Art Cruel, Do Not Press My Tongue-tied Patience With Too Much Disdain: Lest Sorrow Lend Me Words And Words Express, The Manner Of My Pity-wanting Pain.

When I Have Plucked The Rose, I Cannot Give It Vital Growth Again, It Needs Must Wither. I'll Smell It On The Tree.

The Big Round Tears Cours'd One Another Down His Innocent Nose, In Piteous Chase.

"lawyers Are": Perilous Mouths.

A True Repentance Shuns The Evil Itself, More Than The External Suffering Or The Shame.