An Envious Fever Of Pale And Bloodless

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

The Golden Age Is Before Us, Not Behind Us.

Wooing, Wedding, And Repenting Is As A Scotch Jig, A Measure, And A Cinque-pace: The First Suit Is Hot And Hasty Like A Scotch Jig--and Full As Fantastical; The Wedding, Mannerly Modest, As A Measure, Full Of State And Ancientry; And Then Comes Repentance And With His Bad Legs Falls Into The Cinque-pace Faster And Faster, Till He Sink Into His Grave.

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes.

The Fashion Of The World Is To Avoid Cost, And You Encounter It.