I Thank God I Am

Truly Thou Art Damned, Like An Ill-roasted Egg, All On One Side.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Eyed, Such Seems Your Beauty Still. Three Winters Cold Have From The Forests Shook Three Summers' Pride, Three Beauteous Springs To Yellow Autumn Turn'd In Process Of The Seasons Have I Seen, Three April Perfumes In Three Hot Junes Burn'd, Since First I Saw You Fresh, Which Yet Are Green.

A Good Man's Fortune May Grow Out At Heels.

I Pardon Him, As God Shall Pardon Me.

The Extreme Parts Of Time Extremely Forms All Causes To The Purpose Of His Speed.