Not Stepping Over The Bounds Of Modesty.

If She Be Not Honest, Chaste, And True, There's No Man Happy.

What My Tongue Dares Not That My Heart Shall Say

I Have Almost Forgotten The Taste Of Fears: The Time Has Been, My Senses Would Have Cool’d To Hear A Night-shriek; And My Fell Of Hair Would At A Dismal Treatise Rouse And Stir As Life Were In’t: I Have Supt Full With Horrors; Direness, Familiar To My Slaughterous Thoughts, Cannot Once Start Me.

The Day Shall Not Be Up So Soon As I, To Try The Fair Adventure Of Tomorrow.

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.