Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter!

Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make The Truth; But The Plain Single Vow, That Is Vow'd True.

This Feather Stirs; She Lives! If It Be So, It Is A Chance Which Does Redeem All Sorrows That Ever I Have Felt.