Truth Needs No Color; Beauty, No Pencil.

Why, Thou Owest God A Death.

You Are Yoked With A Lamb, That Carries Anger As The Flint Bears Fire; Who, Much Enforced, Shows A Hasty Spank, And Straight Is Cold Again.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

Come, Lady, Die To Live.