Sin Will Pluck On Sin.

You Saw Her Fair, None Else Being By, Herself Pois'd With Herself In Either Eye; But In That Crystal Scales Let There Be Weigh'd Your Lady's Love Against Some Other Maid That I Will Show You Shining At This Feast, And She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Seems Best.

Rumour Doth Double, Like The Voice And Echo, The Numbers Of The Feared.

If It Were Done When 'tis Done, Then 'twere Well. It Were Done Quickly.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens, To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners: So That If We Will Plant Nettles, Or Sow Lettuce, Set Hyssop And Weed Up Tine, Supply It With One Gender Of Herbs, Or Distract It With Many, Either To Have It Sterile With Idleness, Or Manured With Industry, Why, The Power And Corrigible Authority Of This Lies In Our Wills.

Love Is Familiar. Love Is A Devil. There Is No Evil Angel But Love." -