When Sorrows Come, They Come

Where Souls Do Couch On Flowers We'll Hand In Hand.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.

. . . Nothing In His Life Became Him Like The Leaving It; He Died As One That Had Been Studied In His Death To Throw Away The Dearest Thing He Owed, As 'twere A Careless Trifle.

The Fittest Time To Corrupt A Man's Wife Is When She's Fallen Out With Her Husband.

There Lives Within The Very Flame Of Love A Kind Of Wick Or Snuff That Will Abate It.