For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth

So Full Of Artless Jealousy Is Guilt, It Spills Itself In Fearing To Be Spilt.

Love Moderately. Long Love Doth So. Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow. *love Each Other In Moderation. That Is The Key To Long-lasting Love. Too Fast Is As Bad As Too Slow.*

Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted.

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

Twas A Clever Quibble. Here, A Garment For It.