Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With

Master, Go On, And I Will Follow Thee To The Last Gasp With Truth And Loyalty.

Is Love A Tender Thing? It Is Too Rough, Too Rude, Too Boisterous, And It Pricks Like Thorn.

The Will Is Infinite And The Execution Confin'd, The Desire Is Boundless And The Act A Slave To Limit.

I Drink To The General Joy O’ The Whole Table." Macbeth

Twas A Clever Quibble. Here, A Garment For It.