O, Let My Books Be Then The

My Soul Is In The Sky.

It Is A Sin To Be A Mocker.

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triumph Die, Like Fire And Powder, Which As They Kiss Consume. The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness And In The Taste Confounds The Appetite. Therefore Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.

Unhappy That I Am, I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth.

To You Your Father Should Be As A God.