A Holy Habit Clenseth Not

The Ill That Comes Out Of Our Mouth Falles Into Our Bosome.

To A Fair Day Open The Window, But Make You Ready As To A Foule.

Waight And Measure Take Away Strife.

Who Says That Fictions Only And False Hair Become A Verse? Is There In Truth No Beauty? Is All Good Structure In A Winding Stair?

Working And Making A Fire Doth Discretion Require.