Each Present Joy Or Sorrow Seems The

What's Done Is Done. The Joy Is In The Doing.

Flower Of This Purple Dye, Hit With Cupid's Archery, Sink In Apple Of His Eye.

Some Smack Of Age In You, Some Relish Of The Saltness Of Time.

Love Sought Is Good, But Given Unsought, Is Better.

But Yet, I Say, If Imputation And Strong Circumstances, Which Lead Directly To The Door Of Truth, Will Give You Satisfaction, You May Have It.