Conscience Is But A Word That Cowards

Each Present Joy Or Sorrow Seems The Chief.

Why, Thou Deboshed Fish Thou...wilt Thou Tell A Monstrous Lie, Being But Half A Fish And Half A Monster?

For Trust Not Him That Hath Once Broken Faith

I Love Thee So, That, Maugre All Thy Pride, Nor Wit Nor Reason Can My Passion Hide. Do Not Extort Thy Reasons From This Clause, For That I Woo, Thou Therefore Hast No Cause But Rather Reason Thus With Reason Fetter, Love Sought Is Good, But Given Unsought Better.

Small Herbs Have Grace, Great Weeds Do Grow Apace.