Being Of No Power To Make His

Hear Me Profess Sincerely: Had I A Dozen Sons, Each In My Love Alike, And None Less Dear Than Thine And My Good Marcius, I Had Rather Have Eleven Die Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

Many Can Brook The Weather That Love Not The Wind.

I Am Not Bound To Please Thee With My Answer.

Your Worm Is Your Only Emperor For Diet; We Fat All Creatures Else To Fat Us, And We Fat Ourselves For Maggots.