The Painful Warrior Famous For Fight, After

Who Is It Can Read A Woman?

O' What May Man Within Him Hide, Though Angel On The Outward Side!

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds Admit Impediments. Love Is Not Love Which Alters When It Alteration Finds, Or Bends With The Remover To Remove: O No! It Is An Ever-fixed Mark That Looks On Tempests And Is Never Shaken; It Is The Star To Every Wandering Bark, Whose Worth's Unknown, Although His Height Be Taken. Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come: Love Alters Not With His Brief Hours And Weeks, But Bears It Out Even To The Edge Of Doom. If This Be Error And Upon Me Proved, I Never Writ, Nor No Man Ever Loved.

God Shall Be My Hope, My Stay, My Guide And Lantern To My Feet.

Be Advised; Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself: We May Outrun, By Violent Swiftness, That Which We Run At, And Lose By Over-running. Know You Not, The Fire That Mounts The Liquor Til Run O'er, In Seeming To Augment It Wastes It?