Wisdom And Goodness To The Vile Seem

Melancholy Is The Nurse Of Frenzy.

To Persevere In Obstinate Condolement Is A Course Of Impious Stubbornness: 'tis Unmanly Grief.

Love Is A Smoke Rais'd With The Fume Of Sighs; Being Purg'd, A Fire Sparkling In Lovers' Eyes; Being Vex'd, A Sea Nourish'd With Lovers' Tears; What Is It Else? A Madness Most Discreet, A Choking Gall, And A Preserving Sweet.

Are You Sure/that We Are Awake? It Seems To Me/that Yet We Sleep, We Dream

Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore, An Embossed Carbuncle In My Corrupted Blood.