Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield,

Fair, Kind, And True, Have Often Lived Alone.

We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth In Us.

Extremity Is The Trier Of Spirits.

It Is Lost At Dice, What Ancient Honor Won.

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight, Which Therein Works A Miracle In Nature, Making Them Lightest That Wear Most Of It.