Like A Barber's Chair That Fits All

So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life, Or As Sweet Seasoned Showers Are To The Ground.

I Stalk About Her Door, Like A Strange Soul Upon The Stygian Banks Staying For Waftage.

How Much More Doth Beauty Beauteous Seem By That Sweet Ornament Which Truth Doth Give!

Don't Judge A Man's Conscience By Looking At His Face Cause He May Have A Bad Heart.

Truth Hath A Quiet Breast.