Have More Than You Show, Speak Less

My Grief Lies All Within, And These External Manners Of Lament Are Merely Shadows To The Unseen Grief That Swells With Silence In The Tortured Soul.

For My Grief's So Great That No Supporter But The Huge Firm Earth Can Hold It Up: Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is My Throne, Bid Kings Come Bow To It. (constance, From King John, Act Iii, Scene 1)

It Is A Basilisk Unto Mine Eye, Kills Me To Look On't.

Hal, If I Tell Thee A Lie, Spit In My Face, Call Me Horse.

God Send Everyone Their Heart's Desire!