Thy Decay's Still Impregnate With

I Am So Changeable, Being Everything By Turns And Nothing Long - Such A Strange Melange Of Good And Evil.

It Is Useless To Tell One Not To Reason But To Believe; You Might As Well Tell A Man Not To Wake But Sleep.

Hatred Is The Madness Of The Heart.

By Heaven! It Is A Splendid Sight To See For One Who Hath No Friend, No Brother There.

Whatsoever Thy Birth, Thou Wert A Beautiful Thought, And Softly Bodied Forth.