I Do Not Hate A Proud Man,

Delivers In Such Apt And Gracious Words That Aged Ears Play Truant At His Tales; And Younger Hearings Are Quite Ravished; So Sweet And Voluble Is His Discourse.

Don't Waste Your Love On Somebody, Who Doesn't Value It.

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Hast No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil.

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.

Hide Not Thy Poison With Such Sugar'd Words