Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
Turn hell-hound, turn.
Age cannot wither her nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
They do not love that do not show their love.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; my soul the father: and these two beget a generation of still-breeding thoughts, and these same thoughts people this little world.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
The soul of this man is his clothes.
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