The Prince Of Darkness Is A Gentleman!

Things Base And Vile, Holding No Quantity, Love Can Transpose To Form And Dignity

Thou Shalt Be Both The Plaintiff And The Judge Of Thine Own Cause.

O, How Shall Summer's Honey Breath Hold Out Against The Wreckful Siege Of Battering Days, When Rocks Impregnable Are Not So Stout, Nor Gates Of Steel So Strong, But Time Decays?

He Doth Nothing But Talk Of His Horses.

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