My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me

Not Proud You Have, But Thankful That You Have. Proud Can I Never Be Of What I Hate, But Thankful Even For Hate That Is Meant Love.

Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh A Style.

The Robbed That Smiles, Steals Something From The Thief.

I Will Praise Any Man That Will Praise Me.

Fie, Fie Upon Her! There's Language In Her Eye, Her Cheek, Her Lip, Nay, Her Foot Speaks; Her Wanton Spirits Look Out At Every Joint And Motive Of Her Body.