I Know No Ways To Mince It

I Count Myself In Nothing Else So Happy As In A Soul Remembering My Good Friends

Thy Head Is As Full Of Quarrels As An Egg Is Full Of Meat, And Yet Thy Head Hath Been Beaten As Addle As An Egg For Quarrelling.

Love's Heralds Should Be Thoughts, Which Ten Times Faster Glide Than The Sun's Beams Driving Back Shadows Over Low'ring Hills. Therefore Do Nimble-pinioned Doves Draw Love, And Therefore Hath The Wind-swift Cupid Wings.

Love Is Familiar. Love Is A Devil. There Is No Evil Angel But Love." -

Time And The Hour Run Through The Roughest Day.