I Will Live In Thy

Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.

A Woman That Is Like A German Clock, Still A-repairing, Ever Out Of Frame, And Never Going Aright, Being A Watch, But Being Watched That It May Still Go Right!

It Is The Disease Of Not Listening...... That I Am Troubled With.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph; I, That Am Curtailed Of This Fair Proportion, Cheated Of Feature By Dissembling Nature, Deformed, Unfinished, Sent Before My Time Into This Breathing World, Scarce Half Made Up, And That So Lamely And Unfashionable That Dogs Bark At Me As I Halt By Them,-- Why, I, In This Weak Piping Time Of Peace, Have No Delight To Pass Away The Time, Unless To Spy My Shadow In The Sun.

There Is Some Soul Of Goodness In Things Evil, Would Men Observingly Distill It Out.