Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though

Temptation Is The Fire That Brings Up The Scum Of The Heart.

Men Have Marble, Women Waxen, Minds.

If I Had My Mouth, I Would Bite; If I Had My Liberty, I Would Do My Liking. In The Meantime, Let Me Be That I Am, And Seek Not Toalter Me.

Women's Weapons, Water-drops.

We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.