The Last Taste Of Sweets Is Sweetest

If The Skin Were Parchment And The Blows You Gave Were Ink, Your Own Handwriting Would Tell You What I Think.

The Big Round Tears Cours'd One Another Down His Innocent Nose, In Piteous Chase.

Like A Dull Actor Now, I Have Forgot My Part, And I Am Out, Even To A Full Disgrace.

He Kills Her In Her Own Humor.

You Know Who You Are, But Know Not Who You Could Be.