Love Me Little, Love Me Long.

Lone Women, Like To Empty Houses, Perish.

Accurst Be He That First Invented War.

Ah Fair Zenocrate, Divine Zenocrate, Fair Is Too Foul An Epithet For Thee.

I Count Religion But A Childish Toy, And Hold There Is No Sin But Ignorance.

Nothing Violent, Oft Have I Heard Tell, Can Be Permanent.