What? Do I Love Her,

Why Are Our Bodies Soft, And Weak, And Smooth But That Our Soft Conditions And Our Hearts Should Well Agree With Our External Parts?

Mine Eyes Smell Onions: I Shall Weep Anon.

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

I Will Chide No Breather In The World But Myself, Against Whom I Know Most Faults.

Beware The Leader Who Bangs The Drums Of War In Order To Whip The Citizenry Into A Patriotic Fervor.