Only Music Has The Ability To Take

This Long Disease, My Life.

But Blind To Former As To Future Fate, What Mortal Knows His Pre-existent State?

Women Use Lovers As They Do Cards; They Play With Them A While, And When They Have Got All They Can By Them, Throw Them Away, Call For New Ones, And Then Perhaps Lose By The New All They Got By The Old Ones.

In The Nice Bee, What Sense So Subtly True From Pois'nous Herbs Extracts The Healing Dew?

Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.