So May The Outward Shows Be Least

They Have Been Grand-jurymen Since Before Noah Was A Sailor

Is There No Pity Sitting In The Clouds, That Sees Into The Bottom Of My Grief?

For Man Is A Giddy Thing, And This Is My Conclusion.

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire; Doubt That The Sun Doth Move; Doubt Truth To Be A Liar; But Never Doubt I Love.

Condemn The Fault And Not The Actor Of It?