You Kiss By Th' Book.

Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.

But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This You Should Pity Rather Than Despise

He That Is Truly Dedicated To War Hath No Self-love

Graze On My Lips; And If Those Hills Be Dry, Stray Lower, Where The Pleasant Fountains Lie.

Policy Sits Above Conscience.