To Be Slow In Words Is A

Wisdom And Goodness To The Vile Seem Vile; Filths Savour But Themselves.

I Desire You In Friendship, And I Will One Way Or Other Make You Amends.

There Is A Kind Of Character In Thy Life, That To The Observer Doth Thy History, Fully Unfold.

Beauty Provoketh Thieves Sooner Than Gold.

I Shall Despair. There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die No Soul Will Pity Me: And Wherefore Should They, Since That I Myself Find In Myself No Pity To Myself?