Sorrow Breaks Seasons And Reposing Hours, Makes

And Mind, With My Heart In't; And Now Farewell Till Half An Hour Hence.

One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning, One Pain Is Lessen'd By Another's Anguish.

Every Inordinate Cup Is Unbless'd, And The Ingredient Is A Devil.

There Is Nothing Either Good Or Bad But Thinking Makes It So.

If It Be Honor In Your Wars To Seem The Same You Are Not,--which, For Your Best Ends, You Adopt Your Policy--how Is It Less Or Worse, That It Shall Hold Companionship In Peace With Honour, As In War: Since That To Both It Stands In Like Request?