I See A Woman May Be Made

Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

Like A Man Made After Supper Of A Cheese-paring: When A' Was Naked, He Was, For All The World, Like A Forked Radish, With A Head Fantastically Carved Upon It With A Knife.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

The Ostentation Of Our Love, Which, Left Unshown, Is Often Left Unloved.

Hereditary Sloth Instructs Me.