Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us,

The Pleasing Punishment That Women Bear.

I Understand A Fury In Your Words But Not Your Words.

This Rough Magic I Here Abjure And When I Have Required Some Heavenly Music, Which Even Now I Do, To Work Mine End Upon Their Senses That This Airy Charm Is For, I'll Break My Staff, Bury It Certain Fathoms In The Earth, And Deeper Than Did Ever Plummet Sound, I'll Drown My Book.

Grief Best Is Pleased With Grief's Society.

I, Thus Neglecting Worldly Ends, All Dedicated To Closeness And The Bettering Of My Mind.