Whenever Books Are Burned, Men

No Compass Has Ever Been Invented For The High Seas Of Matrimony.

In The Image Of The Lion Made He Kittens Small And Curious.

The Spring's Already At The Gate With Looks My Care Beguiling; The Country Round Appeareth Straight A Flower-garden Smiling.

Pretty Women Without Religion Are Like Flowers Without Perfume.

Glow-worms On The Ground Are Moving, As If In The Torch-dance Circling.