But Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot

Mechanic Slaves With Greasy Aprons, Rules, And Hammers, Shall Uplift Us To The View.

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings... All Murdered; For Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King, Keeps Death His Court... And With A Little Pin Bores Through His Castle Wall, And Farewell King!

You're In Love? Out Out Of Love? I Love Someone. She Doesn't Love Me.

A Maiden Hath No Tongue--but Thought.

A Little More Than Kin, And Less Than Kind.