Since A Woman Must Wear

Like Hungry Guests, A Sitting Audience Looks / Plays Are Like Suppers; Poets Are The Cooks / The Founder's You; The Table Is This Place / The Carvers We; The Prologue Is The Grace / Each Act A Course, Each Scene, A Different Dish.

Sir, You Shall Taste My Anno Domini.

Courage, The Highest Gift, That Scorns To Bend To Mean Devices For A Sordid End. Courage--an Independent Spark From Heaven's Bright Throne, By Which The Soul Stands Raised, Triumphant High, Alone. Great In Itself, Not Praises Of The Crowd, Above All Vice, It Stoops Not To Be Proud. Courage, The Mighty Attribute Of Powers Above, By Which Those Great In War, Are Great In Love. The Spring Of All Brave Acts Is Seated Here, As Falsehoods Draw Their Sordid Birth From Fear.

False Love Is Only Blinder.

Necessity, The Mother Of Invention.