Time, That Takes Survey Of All The

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

In Thy Youth Wast As True A Lover, As Ever Sighed Upon A Midnight Pillow

We Must Not Make A Scarecrow Of The Law, Setting It Up To Fear The Birds Of Prey, And Let It Keep One Shape Till Custom Make It Their Perch, And Not Their Terror.

One Half Of Me Is Yours, The Other Half Is Yours, Mine Own, I Would Say; But If Mine, Then Yours, And So All Yours.

Love Yourself; And In That Love Not Unconsidered Leave Your Honor.