One Should Eat To Live, Not Live

We Are Easily Duped By Those We Love.

Then Worms Shall Try That Long Preserved Virginity, And Your Quaint Honor Turn To Dust, And Into Ashes All My Lust. The Grave's A Fine And Private Place But None, I Think, Do There Embrace.

It Is A Fine Seasoning For Joy To Think Of Those We Love.

All Is Wholesome In The Absence Of Excess.

I Have The Fault Of Being A Little More Sincere Than Is Proper.