She is so conjunctive to my life and soul, that, as the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her.
I am sure care's an enemy to life.
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more?
The Fears as bad as the Falling....
There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered.
But I know to be up late is to be up late.
So many horrid Ghosts.
Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.