Who Knoweth If To Die Be But

To Die With Glory, If One Has To Die At All, Is Still, I Think, Pain For The Dier.

If I Could Remake The World, I'd Banish Women, Send Them Away With All Their Trouble. Then Children Would Come From A Purer Source.

Misery Is The End Of Those With Unbridled Mouths.

Love's All In All To Women.

When Roused To Rage The Maddening Populace Storms, Their Fury, Like A Rolling Flame, Bursts Forth Unquenchable; But Give Its Violence Ways, It Spends Itself, And As Its Force Abates, Learns To Obey And Yields It To Your Will.