They Were Devils Incarnate.

I See You Stand Like Greyhounds In The Slips, Straining Upon The Start. The Game's Afoot; Follow Your Spirit: And Upon This Charge, Cry — God For Harry! England And Saint George!

If People Knew How Much I Hated Them, They'd Love Me For Holding It In.

Dreams Are The Children Of Idled Minds.

With Love's Light Wings Did I O'er-perch These Walls, For Stony Limits Cannot Hold Love Out

A Thousand Moral Paintings I Can Show That Shall Demonstrate These Quick Blows Of Fortune's More Pregnantly Than Words.