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Better Be With The Dead, Whom We To Gain Our Peace, Have Sent To Peace, Than On The Torture Of The Mind To Lie In Restless Ecstasy.

-William Shakespeare

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Better Be With The

William Shakespeare

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Better Be With The Dead, Whom We To Gain Our Peace, Have Sent To Peace, Than On The Torture Of The Mind To Lie In Restless Ecstasy.

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He Draweth Out The Thread Of His Verbosity Finer Than The Staple Of His Argument.

Ask God For Temp'rance. That's Th' Appliance Only Which Your Disease Requires.

Foul Words Is But Foul Wind, And Foul Wind Is But Foul Breath, And Foul Breath Is Noisome; Therefore I Will Depart Unkissed.

Assume A Virtue, If You Have It Not. That Monster, Custom, Who All Sense Doth Eat, Of Habits Devil, Is Angel Yet In This, That To The Use Of Actions Fair And Good He Likewise Gives A Frock Or Livery That Aptly Is Put On. Refrain Tonight, And That Shall Lend A Kind Of Easiness To The Next Abstinence; The Next More Easy; For Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature.

They May Seize On The White Wonder Of Dear Juliet's Hand And Steal Immortal Blessing From Her Lips, Who, Even In Pure And Vestal Modesty, Still Blush, As Thinking Their Own Kisses Sin.

Even As One Heat Another Heat Expels, Or As One Nail By Strength Drives Out Another, So The Remembrance Of My Former Love Is By A Newer Object Quite Forgotten.

So Holy And So Perfect Is My Love, And I In Such A Poverty Of Grace, That I Shall Think It A Most Plenteous Crop To Glean The Broken Ears After The Man That The Main Harvest Reaps.

While We Lie Tumbling In The Hay.

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.

The Jury Passing On The Prisoner's Life May In The Sworn Twelve Have A Thief Or Two Guiltier Than Him They Try.

Not That I Loved Caesar Less, But That I Loved Rome More.

The Nature Of Bad News Affects The Teller.

Gloucester, We Have Done Deeds Of Charity, Made Peace Of Enmity, Fair Love Of Hate, Between These Swelling Wrong-incensed Peers.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.

Love Does Not See With The Eyes, But With The Soul.

Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More; Or Close The Wall Up With Our English Dead! In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger.

'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your Angling, When Your Diver Did Hang A Salt Fish On His Hook, Which He With Fervency Drew Up.

He Was Ever Precise In Promise-keeping.

Promises That Are Broken

Why Didst Thou Promise Such A Beauteous Day And Make Me Travel Forth Without My Cloak, To Let Base Clouds O'ertake Me In My Way, Hiding They Brav'ry In Their Rotten Smoke?

Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

To Sue To Live, I Find I Seek To Die; And, Seeking Death, Find Life: Let It Come On.

Our Content Is Our Best Having.

Let's All Cry Peace, Freedom, And Liberty!

Tut, Man, One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning; One Pain Is Less'ned By Another's Anguish; Turn Giddy, And Be Holp By Backward Turning; One Desperate Grief Cures With Another's Languish.

Thy Best Of Rest Is Sleep, And That Thou Oft Provok'st; Yet Grossly Fear'st Thy Death, Which Is No More.

God, The Best Maker Of All Marriages, Combine Your Hearts Into One.

Wedding Anniversary

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

What A Piece Of Work Is A Man, How Noble In Reason, How Infinite In Faculties, In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable, In Action How Like An Angel, In Apprehension How Like A God.

And Nothing Can We Call Our Own But Death And That Small Model Of The Barren Earth Which Serves As Paste And Cover To Our Bones. For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

Oh! It Offends Me To The Soul To Hear A Robust Periwig-pated Fellow, Tear A Passion To Tatters, To Very Rags, To Split The Ears Of The Groundlings.

He Does Me Double Wrong That Wounds Me With The Flatteries Of His Tongue.

Sometimes, Less Is More.

Civil Dissension Is A Viperous Worm That Gnaws The Bowels Of The Commonwealth.

And A Man's Life's No More Than To Say "one."

If I Had My Mouth, I Would Bite; If I Had My Liberty, I Would Do My Liking. In The Meantime, Let Me Be That I Am, And Seek Not Toalter Me.

... I Am At War 'twixt Will And Will Not.

What If This Cursed Hand Were Thicker Than Itself With Brother's Blood Is There Not Rain Enough In The Sweet Heaves To Wash It White As Snow?

One Pain Is Lessened By Another's Anguish.

Come, Let's Have One Other Gaudy Night. Call To Me All My Sad Captains. Fill Our Bowls Once More. Let's Mock The Midnight Bell.

Demetrius: Villain, What Hast Thou Done? Aaron: That Which Thou Canst Not Undo. Chiron: Thou Hast Undone Our Mother. Aaron: Villain, I Have Done Thy Mother.

Sir, The Year Growing Ancient, Not Yet On Summer's Death Nor On The Birth Of Trembling Winter, The Fairest Flowers O' Th' Season Are Our Carnations And Streaked Gillyvors, Which Some Call Nature's Bastards.

If There Be Devils, Would I Were A Devil, To Live And Burn In Everlasting Fire, So I Might Have Your Company In Hell, But To Torment You With My Bitter Tongue!

The Devil Shall Have His Bargain; For He Was Never Yet A Breaker Of Proverbs--he Will Give The Devil His Due.

Why, Look You, I Am Whipp'd And Scourg'd With Rods, Nettled And Stung With Pismires[nettles], When I Hear Of This Vile Politician, Bolingbroke.

I Know No Ways To Mince It In Love, But Directly To Say - I Love You

Wedding Anniversary

Despair And Die. The Ghosts

There Is No More Mercy In Him Than There Is Milk In A Male Tiger.

Sir Andrew Ague-cheek: I'll Stay A Month Longer. I Am A Fellow O' The Strangest Mind I' The World; I Delight In Masques And Revels Sometimes Altogether (he's An Oddity In That He Enjoys Having Fun)

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

He Hath Eaten Me Out Of House And Home.

He Hath Not Eat Paper, As It Were; He Hath Not Drunk Ink; His Intellect Is Not Replenished; He Is Only An Animal, Only Sensible In The Duller Parts. (shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, Iv)

Shall I Never See A Bachelor Of Three Score Again?

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

To Be Generous, Guiltless, And Of A Free Disposition Is To Take Those Things For Bird-bolts That You Deem Cannon-bullets.

Haply A Woman's Voice May Do Some Good When Articles Too Nicely Urged Be Stood On.

Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears A Crown.

As Many Arrows, Loosed Several Ways, Come To One Mark...so Many A Thousand Actions, Once Afoot, End In One Purpose.

Ships Are But Boards, Sailors But Men.

There Is A Willow Grows Aslant A Brook, That Shows His Hoar Leaves In The Glassy Stream; There With Fantastic Garlands Did She Come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, And Long Purples That Liberal Shepherds Give A Grosser Name, But Our Cold Maids Do Dead Men's Fingers Call Them: There, On The Pendent Boughs Her Coronet Weeds Clambering To Hang, An Envious Sliver Broke; When Down Her Weedy Trophies And Herself Fell In The Weeping Brook.

What's His Offense? Groping For Trout In A Peculiar River.

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent Made Glorious Summer By This Sun Of York; And All The Clouds That Lour'd Upon Our House In The Deep Bosom Of The Ocean Buried.

O, Reason Not The Need!

A Fellow By The Hand Of Nature Mark'd, Quoted, And Sign'd, To Do A Deed Of Shame.

We Cannot Conceive Of Matter Being Formed Of Nothing, Since Things Require A Seed To Start From... Therefore There Is Not Anything Which Returns To Nothing, But All Things Return Dissolved Into Their Elements.

Bad Is The Trade That Must Play Fool To Sorrow, Ang'ring Itself And Others.

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

I'll Fight, Till From My Bones My Flesh Be Hacked.

Speak Low, If You Speak Love.

I Came, Saw, And Overcame.

Let Him Smell His Way To Dover!

A Wild Dedication Of Yourselves To Undiscovered Waters, Undreamed Shores.

Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though You Can Fret Me, You Cannot Play Upon Me.

Important Hamlet

Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

I Bear A Charmed Life, Which Must Not Yield To One Of Woman Born.

Tis Ever Common That Men Are Merriest When They Are From Home.

Now No Way Can I Stray; Save Back To England, All The World's My Way.

Fruits That Blossom First Will First Be Ripe.

When Sorrows Come, They Come Not Single Spies, But In Battalions.

The Bashful Virgin's Sidelong Looks Of Love, The Matron's Glance That Would Those Looks Reprove.

Plenty And Peace Breed Cowards; Hardness Ever Of Hardiness Is Mother.

Time Does Not Have The Same Appeal For Every One

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love ............ The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes

Have Not Saints Lips, And Holy Palmers Too Ay, Pilgrim, Lips That They Must Use In Prayer.

A Good Old Man, Sir. He Will Be Talking. As They Say, When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out.

Thus May Poor Fools Belive False Teachers.

Such An Act That Blurs The Grace And Blush Of Modesty; Calls Virtue Hypocrite; Takes Off The Rose From The Fair Forehead Of An Innocent Love, And Sets A Blister There; Makes Marriage Vows As False As Dicers' Oaths.

Wait For The Season When To Cast Good Counsels Upon Subsiding Passion.

The Love Of Wicked Men Converts To Fear; That Fear To Hate, And Hate Turns One Or Both To Worthy Danger And Deserved Death.

Lord, Lord, How This World Is Given To Lying!

I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

It Is The Mind That Makes The Body Rich; And As The Sun Breaks Through The Darkest Clouds, So Honor Peereth In The Meanest Habit.

Which Means She To Deceive, Father Or Mother?

Mind Your Speech A Little Lest You Should Mar Your Fortunes.

Grace And Remembrance Be To You Both.

Wedding Anniversary

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

There's No Art To Find The Mind's Construction In The Face.

What Though Care Killed A Cat, Thou Hast Mettle Enough In Thee To Kill Care.

Leave Us To Our Free Election.

What Infinite Heart's-ease Must Kings Neglect That Private Men Enjoy! And What Have Kings That Privates Have Not Too, Save Ceremony, Save General Ceremony?

My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans Crack Or Flaw.

Earth-treading Stars That Make Dark Heaven Light

Let Fancy Still In My Sense In Lethe Steep; If It Be Thus To Dream, Still Let Me Sleep!

Though Now This Grained Face Of Mine Be Hid In Sap-consuming Winter's Drizzled Snow, And All The Conduits Of My Blood Froze Up, Yet Hath My Night Of Life Some Memory, My Wasting Lamps Some Fading Glimmer Left, My Dull Deaf Ears A Little Use To Hear.

The Tempter Or The Tempted, Who Sins Most? Ha! Not She: Nor Doth She Tempt: But It Is I That, Lying By The Violet In The Sun, Do As The Carrion Does, Not As The Flower, Corrupt With Virtuous Season.

Trust Not My Reading, Nor My Observations, Which With Experimental Seal Do Warrant The Tenor Of My Book.

Dispute Not With Her: She Is Lunatic.

So Musical A Discord, Such Sweet Thunder.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!

Proper Deformity Shows Not In The Fiend So Horrid As In Woman.

It Is The Cowish Terror Of His Spirit That Dares Not Undertake; He'll Not Feel Wrongs Which Tie Him To An Answer.

So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life, Or As Sweet Seasoned Showers Are To The Ground.

O Serpent Heart Hid With A Flowering Face! Did Ever A Dragon Keep So Fair A Cave? Beautiful Tyrant, Feind Angelical, Dove Feather Raven, Wolvish-ravening Lamb! Despised Substance Of Devinest Show, Just Opposite To What Thou Justly Seemest - A Dammed Saint, An Honourable Villain!

I Love Thee, I Love Thee With A Love That Shall Not Die. Till The Sun Grows Cold And The Stars Grow Old.

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

O, How Full Of Briers Is This Working-day World!

It Is Great Sin To Swear Unto A Sin, But Greater Sin To Keep A Sinful Oath.

What E'er You Are That In This Desert Inaccessible, Under The Shade Of Melancholy Boughs, Lose And Neglect The Creeping Hours Of Time.

The Plants Look Up To Heaven, From Whence They Have Their Nourishment.

He Was Not So Much Brain As Earwax

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.

So Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine, And I My Self Am Mortgaged To Thy Will, My Self I'll Forfeit, So That Other Mine, Thou Wilt Restore To Be My Comfort Still.

Prosperity's The Very Bond Of Love, Whose Fresh Complexion And Whose Heart Together Affliction Alters.

You Have Her Father's Love, Demetrius; Let Me Have Hermia's: Do You Marry Him!

I Have Nothing Of Woman In Me; Now From Head To Foot I Am Marble-constant.

Till Our King Henry Had Shook Hands With Death.

Make Use Of Time, Let Not Advantage Slip.

And Be These Juggling Friends No More Believ'd, That Palter With Us In A Double Sense; That Keep The Word Of Promise To Our Ear And Break It To Our Hope.

Is There No Respect Of Place, Persons, Nor Time In You?

All The Contagion Of The South Light On You, You Shames Of Rome! You Herd Of--boils And Plagues Plaster You O'er; That You May Be Abhorr'd Further Than Seen, And One Infect Another Against The Wind A Mile!

A Gentleman That Loves To Hear Himself Talk, Will Speak More In A Minute Than He Will Stand To In A Month.

Love's Not Love When It Is Mingled With Regards That Stand Aloof From Th' Entire Point.

He's Mad That Trusts In The Tameness Of A Wolf.

Lords, I Protest My Soul Is Full Of Woe That Blood Should Sprinkle Me To Make Me Grow. Come, Mourn With Me For What I Do Lament, And Put Sullen Black Incontinent. I'll Make A Voyage To The Holy Land To Wash This Blood Off From My Guilty Hand. March Sadly After. Grace My Mournings Here In Weeping After This Untimely Bier.

I Wasted Time, And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

Doubt Is A Thief That Often Makes Us Fear To Tread Where We Might Have Won.

The Time Of Life Is Short; To Spend That Shortness Basely Were Too Long.

Shortness Of Life

Good Company, Good Wine, Good Welcome, Can Make Good People.

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

Men Judge By The Complexion Of The Sky The State And Inclination Of The Day.

May Never Glorious Sun Reflex His Beams Upon The Country Where You Make Abode! But Darkness And The Gloomy Shade Of Death Environ You Till Mischief And Despair Drive You To Break Your Necks Or Hang Yourselves.

No Stony Bulwark Can Resist The Love, And Love Dares What Anyone Can Love.

And Caesar Shall Go Forth.

My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things Forgotten.

Few Love To Hear The Sins They Love To Act.

If You Would Persuade, You Must Appeal To Interest Rather Than Intellect. We Are Advertis'd By Our Loving Friends.

How Much Salt Water Thrown Away In Waste/ To Season Love, That Of It Doth Not Taste.

An Overflow Of Good Converts To Bad.

Iago: She That Was Ever Fair And Never Proud, Had Tongue At Will And Yet Was Never Loud, Never Lack'd Gold And Yet Went Never Gay, Fled From Her Wish And Yet Said 'now I May,' She That Being Anger'd, Her Revenge Being Nigh, Bade Her Wrong Stay And Her Displeasure Fly, She That In Wisdom Never Was So Frail To Change The Cod's Head For The Salmon's Tail; She That Could Think And Ne'er Disclose Her Mind, See Suitors Following And Not Look Behind, She Was A Wight, If Ever Such Wight Were,-- Desdemona: To Do What? Iago: To Suckle Fools And Chronicle Small Beer.

It Is Not In The Stars To Hold Our Destiny But In Ourselves.

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

The Bitter Clamor Of Two Eager Tongues.

The Poorest Service Is Repaid With Thanks.

Taming Of The Shrew

Trust Not Your Daughter's Minds By What You See Them Act.

Alas, Our Frailty Is The Cause , Not We! For, Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.

The Very Firstlings Of My Heart Shall Be The Firstlings Of My Hand.

What Fates Impose, That Men Must Needs Abide; It Boots Not To Resist Both Wind And Tide.

We Suffer A Lot The Few Things We Lack And We Enjoy Too Little The Many Things We Have.

And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs'd They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin's Day.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

Sigh No More Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever

None Can Cure Their Harms By Wailing Them.

Merciful Heaven, Thou Rather With Thy Sharp And Sulphurous Bolt Splits The Unwedgeable And Gnarled Oak Than The Soft Myrtle; But Man, Proud Man, Dressed In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured His Glassy Essence--like An Angry Ape Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven As Makes The Angels Weep; Who, With Our Spleens, Would All Themselves Laugh Mortal.

The Weakest Goes To The Wall.

Is There No Pity Sitting In The Clouds, That Sees Into The Bottom Of My Grief?

I Desire You In Friendship, And I Will One Way Or Other Make You Amends.

A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling, Blasphemous, Incharitable Dog!

O, Train Me Not, Sweet Mermaid, With Thy Note, To Drown Me In Thy Sister’s Flood Of Tears.

Spirits Are Not Finely Touched But To Fine Issues.

By Jove, I Am Not Covetous For Gold, Nor Care I Who Doth Feed Upon My Cost; It Yearns Me Not If Me My Garments Wear; Such Outward Things Dwell Not In My Desires: But If It Be A Sin To Covet Honor, I Am The Most Offending Soul Alive.

Cursed Be He That Moves My Bones.

Better Three Hours Too Soon, Than One Hour To Late.

Bosom Upon My Counsel; You'll Find It Wholesome.

All Furnished, All In Arms; All Plum'd Like Estridges That With The Wind Bated Like Eagles Having Lately Bathed; Glittering In Golden Coats Like Images; As Full Of Spirit As The Month Of May And Gorgeous As The Sun At Midsummer; Wanton As Youthful Goats, Wild As Young Bulls.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

When Clouds Are Seen Wise Men Put On Their Cloaks; When Great Leaves Fall Then Winter Is At Hand.

The Sudden Hand Of Death Close Up Mine Eye!

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter!

O Horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue Nor Heart Cannot Conceive Nor Name Thee!

Murder Most Foul, As In The Best It It; But This Most Foul, Strange, And Unnatural.

Hamlet And Ophelia

The Rose Looks Fair, But Fairer We It Deem For That Sweet Odour Which Doth In It Live.

Make The Upcoming Hour Overflow With Joy, And Let Pleasure Drown The Brim.

Fairies Use Flowers For Their Charactery.

The Sight Of Lovers Feedeth Those In Love.

What A Deformed Thief This Fashion Is.

These Signs Have Marked Me Extraordinary, And All The Courses Of My Life Do Show I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth.

I Drink To The General Joy O’ The Whole Table." Macbeth

When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth, I Do Believe Her, Though I Know She Lies.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

O Villains, Vipers, Dogs, Easily Won To Fawn On Any Man!

O, My Offence Is Rank, It Smells To Heaven

Can It Be That Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness? Having Waste Ground Enough, Shall We Desire To Raze The Sanctuary And Pitch Our Evils There?

A Lean Cheek; Which You Have Not: A Blue Eye, And Sunken; Which You Have Not: An Unquestionable Spirit; Which You Have Not: A Beard Neglected; Which You Have Not: — But I Pardon You For That; For, Simply, Your Having1 In Beard Is A Younger Brother's Revenue: — Then Your Hose Should Be Ungarter'd, Your Bonnet Unhanded, Your Sleeve Unbuttoned, Your Shoe Untied, And Every Thing About You Demonstrating A Careless Desolation.

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose, And On Old Hiems' Thin And Icy Crown An Odorous Chaplet Of Sweet Summer Buds Is, As In Mockery, Set. The Spring, The Summer, The Childing Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries, And The Mazed World, By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

He That Hath The Steerage Of My Course, Direct My Sail.

I Will Be Free, Even To The Uttermost, As I Please, In Words.

And Sleep, That Sometime Shuts Up Sorrow's Eye, Steal Me Awhile From Mine Own Company.

If Love Be Blind, Love Cannot Hit The Mark

But O, How Bitter A Thing It Is To Look Into Happiness Through Another Man's Eyes.

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