We Are All Selfish And I No

Shakespeare's Name, You May Depend On It, Stands Absurdly Too High And Will Go Down.

Now What I Love In Women Is, They Won't Or Can't Do Otherwise Than Lie, But Do It. So Well, The Very Truth Seems Falsehood To It.

Alas! How Deeply Painful Is All Payment!

I See Before Me The Gladiator Lie.

Perhaps The Early Grave Which Men Weep Over May Be Meant To Save.