Ornament Is But The Guiled Shore To

Thou Lump Of Foul Deformity!

I Will Not Trust You, I, Nor Longer Stay In Your Curst Company. Your Hands Than Mine Are Quicker For A Fray, My Legs Are Longer Though, To Run Away.

I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

They Love Least That Let Men Know Their Loves.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.