They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

Fair Ladies, Masked, Are Roses In Their Bud; Dismasked, The Damask Sweet Commixture Shown, Are Angels Vailing Clouds, Or Roses Blown.

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

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.

I Have Had A Most Rare Vision. I Have Had A Dream, Past The Wit Of Man To Say What Dream It Was.

My Chastity's The Jewel Of Our House, Bequeathed Down From Many Ancestors.