Where Hateful Death Put On His Ugliest

Every Offense Is Not A Hate At First.

They Have Been Grand-jurymen Since Before Noah Was A Sailor

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triump Die, Like Fire And Powder Which, As They Kiss, Consume

Truly The Souls Of Men Are Full Of Dread: Ye Cannot Reason Almost With A Man That Looks Not Heavily And Full Of Fear.

To Gild Refined Gold, To Paint The Lily... Is Wasteful And Ridiculous Excess