A Man Should Be What He Seems.

Sweets With Sweets War Not, Joy Delights In Joy.

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

Polonius: What Do You Read, My Lord? Hamlet: Words, Words, Words.

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

I May Command Where I Adore.