Ten Kisses Short As One,

Out Of This Nettle - Danger - We Pluck This Flower - Safety.

Let The Sap Of Reason Quench The Fire Of Passion.

The Tartness Of His Face Sours Ripe Grapes.

I Must To The Barber's, Monsieur, For Methinks I Am Marvellous Hairy About The Face.

The Devil Is A Gentleman.