Two Women Placed Together Makes Cold Weather.

I Shall Show The Cinders Of My Spirits Through The Ashes Of My Chance.

I Begin To Find An Idle And Fond Bondage In The Oppression Of Aged Tyranny, Who Sways, Not As It Hath Power, But As It Is Suffered.

O Heaven! That One Might Read The Book Of Fate, And See The Revolution Of The Times.

However Wickedness Outstrips Men, It Has No Wings To Fly From God.

...lest Too Light Winning Make The Prize Light.