The Sun With One Eye

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

Come Not Within The Measure Of My Wrath.

I Loved Ophelia. Forty Thousand Brothers Could Not, With All Their Quantity Of Love, Make Up My Sum.

Let Husbands Know Their Wives Have Sense Like Them. They See, And Smell, And Have Their Palates Both For Sweet And Sour, As Husbands Have.

And Ruin`d Love When It Is Built Anew, Grows Fairer Than At First, More Strong, Far Greater