Many That Are Not Mad

Give Me That Man That Is Not Passion's Slave, And I Will Wear Him In My Heart's Core, In My Heart Of Heart, As I Do Thee.

I Praise God For You, Sir: Your Reasons At Dinner Have Been Sharp And Sententious; Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Audacious Without Impudency, Learned Without Opinion, And Strange With-out Heresy.

A Little More Than Kin, And Less Than Kind.

Lovers And Madmen Have Such Seething Brains Such Shaping Fantasies, That Apprehend More Than Cool Reason Ever Comprehends.

What Are You Doing Sister? / Killing Swine.