A Woman Would Run Through Fire And

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.

A Hand As Fruitful As The Land That Feeds Us; His Dew Falls Everywhere.

O! She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright It Seems She Hangs Upon The Cheek Of Night Like A Rich Jewel In An Ethiop's Ear; Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear. - Romeo -

How Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth It Is To Have A Thankless Child!

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water, Which Never Ceaseth To Enlarge Itself, Till, By Broad Spreading, It Disperse To Naught.