They Do Not Love That Do Not

Hereditary Sloth Instructs Me.

Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?

Thou Art Thy Mother's Glass, And She In Thee Calls Back The Lovely April Of Her Prime...

Now Would I Give A Thousand Furlongs Of Sea For An Acre Of Barren Ground.

Care For Us! True, Indeed! They Ne'er Cared For Us Yet: Suffer Us To Famish, And Their Storehouses Crammed With Grain; Make Edicts For Usury, To Support Usurers; Repeal Daily Any Wholesome Act Established Against The Rich, And Provide More Piercing Statutes Daily To Chain Up And Restrain The Poor. If The Wars Eat Us Not Up, They Will; And There's All The Love They Bear Us.